Family Complications
by lenalernova
Summary: Everybody has to deal with family complications. Even kings, queens, princes and princesses. The life of Gondor's royal family had been (more or less) peaceful for years, but then... something unexpected happened. (Warnings: no Aragorn/Arwen fluff or slash; be prepared for an excess of romance and new characters; slightly AU. And feel free to stop reading if you don't like it.) R
1. Prologue

Author's Note/Greeting:

Well hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

So please read and review, because I want to know what you think about the story, the characters, the society or anything at all. I'll be so happy to answer any question that comes to your mind, too, so feel free to ask. And if you don't like the story, or my grammar sucks too much, that's fine too, we are different and like different things. Just please be gentle on me, because this is really my first publish.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

Gilraen looked up at Arathorn in stress.

"Do you think she'll wake up?" she asked her husband wringing her hands worriedly.

"She's not dead, so she's obviously going to wake up" the man replied and closed his eyes.

The girl they found just a few hours ago still lay unconsciously in spite of all the damp cloths Gilraen placed on her forehead. This whole _adventure_ was getting more and more crazy. Like it or not, they were dead. For Valar knows how many years, and Gandalf now turns up to invite them on an _adventure,_ the exact word he used, back on Middle Earth, back in life. And the first thing they find is half a dozen southrons with an abducted girl. The precise things Gilraen did not miss from life: war, abduction, enemies, blood, and death.

"Where do you think Gandalf is waiting for us?" her husband asked.

"I have no idea, do I?" Gilraen shrugged. "He was your friend; you should know what's on his mind. He said go north, so we keep going north and—"

The girl finally stirred. She gave a soft moan and opened her eyes looking around terrified. Obviously two flesh-solid ghosts back from the dead in the middle of nowhere inside a dirty tent she was held captive in, are not the most promising prospect.

"Where am I? Who are you?" she mumbled, her blue eyes wide with confusion.

"Don't worry, dearest, you are safe" Gilraen soothed her. "They won't hurt you again."

"They are dead" Arathorn added as explanation. "Are you feeling well?"

"I'm… I'm just a little…" she pushed herself up and tugged away the golden locks falling over her pretty face. "My hands ache."

"Show me, maybe we can do something" Gilraen smiled at her. The girl's wrists were red and bruised from the rough ropes bounding them together. Apart from that and a purplish mark of a hard palm on her cheek bone, she looked unharmed.

"What's your name?" Arathorn asked the girl whose wariness didn't seem to have subsided.

"Sybille" she said after a moment of hesitation. "Who are _you_?"

"We are…" Gilraen looked at her husband. What were they going to say? Lord and Lady of the Dunedain back from the dead? There was no point in scaring the girl any further…

"Traders" Arathorn finished. "We are travelling north. Are you Gondorian, Sybille?"

"Yes" she nodded and took the water Gilraen offered her. "Thank you, madam"

Gilraen had to laugh at that. Very courteous from a girl just saved from kidnap.

"And you are also highborn?" Arathorn went on in a casual tone, but the girl became distrusting again at once. "Dirty and torn, it may be, but your dress is still all satin and silk."

"Yes" she admitted. "Where are we?"

"Near the river Sirith" Gilraen's husband replied eying the girl curiously whose face lit up in an instant.

"Is somebody looking for you, dear?" Gilraen asked her, interrupting the one question – one answer game she was playing with Arathorn. Highborn Gondorian maidens don't just go missing without anybody noticing it. "How far do you live from here?"

"Not so far" Sybille replied. And after a moment of inner debate went on. "In the capital. And yes, my brother probably, or someone…"

"I'm sure they'll find you soon" Arathorn gave her a reassuring smile. "Until then we'd be happy to share your company and you'd be safe from abductors sharing ours."

"Yes. Thank you, sir, you are very kind. That'd be very welcome" the girl pulled herself together and gave a smile to them.

"Well then, Sybille, are you hungry? I'm afraid we can't offer much, but better than nothing" Gilraen gave a playful grimace and placed in front of Sybille some cheese and bread they found in the southrons' wagon.

"Thank you so much" she emphasized on the word 'so' and took a bite from the bread.

After Sybille ate, Gilraen set down to put some bandages, washed stripes of clothes they also found in the southrons' wagon to be exact, on the girl's bruised wrists and ankles.

"So you said you were traders" the girl blinked at her with smiling curious eyes. "What do you trade with? Why did you come so far south to trade?"

"Oh…well…" Gilraen had no idea what to say to Sybille. The girl seemed more than harmless, besides she was only being friendly to chat her up. "You know we trade with many various things. And you, Sybille, tell me how old are you?" Gilraen did her best to change the topic as quickly as possible without drawing the girl's suspicion.

"Almost seventeen" she replied proudly.

"Ah, the finest age" Gilraen sighed. "I can't imagine what those men wanted from such a kind and innocent girl"

"Well… probably ransom" Sybille seemed as uncomfortable with the reasons of her abduction as Gilraen was when it came to their 'life' as 'traders'.

"From your parents?" she asked the girl anyways.

"Yes… apparently" Sybille nodded.

"Unfortunately it's a custom to harass children of wealthy, highborn families to ransom money from the parents…" Gilraen mused. At least it wasn't orcs who caught the girl, otherwise they wouldn't have cared for ransom; blood would have served them well enough. "You were still lucky you know… worse abductors could have taken you."

"I was lucky that you found me before they took me any further from my home" Sybille replied clearly meaning her words.

Gilraen placed a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. Sybille reminded her a little of the daughter or sister she never had. "I'm sure your brother will find you soon, dear. Rest now."

For the rest of the afternoon Sybille dozed in the tent while Gilraen discussed potential places with Arathorn where Gandalf might be waiting for them to take them to their son. It was around nightfall that their words were interrupted by the sound of pounding hooves. Her husband stood up to get a better view of the approaching party.

"There are about twenty horses. Soldiers, under the Gondorian banner. Is this some patrol?" Arathorn murmured and walked ahead to meet the riders, Gilraen at his heels. She had no idea what was going on, but twenty armed men gave her a heavy feeling of unease, no matter what sort of banner they carried. The only rider Gilraen would have been happy to see was the girl, Sybille's brother. A young lord was leading the party easing his stallion into a trot as he saw Gilraen and Arathorn approach.

"Who are you and what business do you have in the middle of Gondor?" he demanded as he reached Arathorn yanking the reins to stop his horse. Gilraen thought he had to be some captain, by the looks and number of his men, and his attire also spoke of high birth. His tone made one thing clear: that he was not somebody advisable to defy.

"We are traders" Arathorn lied for the second time that day.

"With an empty wagon, aye?" He couldn't be older than mid-twenties, Gilraen thought, as the man rode around the southron's wagon.

Arathorn gave an apologetic shrug to the comment.

"And who do you hope to trade with by the riverbank? Fish? Where are you headed?"

"We are headed north, my lord." Her husband said the words 'my lord' sounding queer on his lips. She didn't remember Arathorn addressing anybody 'lord' apart from Lord Elrond of Rivendell.

"Not south, you are sure? To give spy reports to Harad, perchance?" he offered with a wary glimpse around their small camp.

"We don't spy for Haradrims, we slay them" Arathorn was winning, not surprisingly.

"Not for an empty wagon, I trust?" he demanded frowning. "What southrons did you kill and to what ends?"

"A dozen armed men disguised as merchants. To free their captive."

"A captive?" the leader lord's companion blurted. He was even younger than the other, though very much similar in attire and appearance.

"What captive?" the other barked at them too, all nerves on edge to hear the answer.

"A girl?" the younger one asked dismounting his horse.

"Yes" Gilraen nodded quickly her mouth curving into a smile, though this wasn't exactly the way she pictured Sybille's brother coming to rescue her. "With blonde hair and blue—"

"Where is she now?" the youth yelled cutting her across.

Before either of them could reply a thin voice answered him. Sybille woke up.

"Florian?" she sounded overwhelmed with joy and relief, as though she could hardly believe her ears and eyes.

"Sybille!" the youth cried out hurrying off.

Sybille stepped out of the tent and ran into his embrace.

"Heavens, what happened to you? I was mad with worry when we couldn't find you. Dearest, are you unharmed? What happened to you?"

"I don't know, all I remember is someone grabbed me and I woke chained and gagged and it was so awful and I couldn't escape and I'm so happy you found me! I so hoped someone would look and find me…"

"H_alf the city_'s been looking for you from the moment you went missing, gracious lady" The leader of the soldiers dismounted as well and walked up to Sybille and the youth called Florian.

"Lord Barahin, the greatest pleasure to see you!" she said still overwhelmed.

"The greater pleasure to see _you_, Sybille. I feared we would never find you."

"But we found you and now we're taking you home right now and the healers will tend you and you'll forget all these horrors by next week, I promise you, darling Sybille." The young man stroked her cheeks and planted a light kiss on her lips.

Gilraen glanced at her husband. The same thought she had in mind was written over his face too. _That_ was not exactly brotherly love.

"So eventually it wasn't your brother looking for you" Arathorn said humming.

"He rode east with twenty men" Florian explained to Sybille.

"Send the hawks" the leader named Barahin barked at one of the soldiers. "We'll ride for Minas Tirith at once."

"The sun just set" Arathorn raised an eyebrow.

"We'll light torches" came the unfriendly reply as the man mounted his horse eyes sweeping over their camp warily.

"Wait, shouldn't we give them some reward?" Florian looked up at his companion.

Gilraen gave a half amused half bewildered look to her husband. Well, maybe traders would welcome reward after saving a high born maiden.

"Apparently, they weren't very eager to tell us about her. Besides, they seem to have no idea who she is and I do not intend to change that."

"Forgive the Lord Barahin for mistrusting you, please. I'd be most happy if you visited me once you come to the city. So I could repay your kindness" Sybille told them.

"Thank you, my lady, mayhaps we'll meet again." Arathorn inclined his head.

"Take care of yourself" Gilraen smiled at her as Florian helped her onto his horse.

"Farewell!" she waved at them as the youth mounted behind her. He inclined his head and they rode off with Lord Barahin and his men.

Gilraen turned to Arathorn with a bittersweet feeling. Having Sybille with them, someone to take care of just for a day refreshed all her mortal maternal instincts. She so longed to see Aragorn.

"She was a darling child…" Gilraen sighed.

"A child? How old was she, sixteen? You saw that boy kissing her" Arathorn chuckled.

"Fine, then a young lady" Gilraen shook her head playfully. "So what about us, my dear? What do we do now?"

"Go north… and inquire…" Arathorn trailed off with a helpless shrug.

* * *

Well that was it for now. Introduction Part 1 is coming up tomorrow, check it out if you are interested :)

Got an anonymus review asking what timeline this is (I can't answer an anonymus review, that's why I'm writing here). This is after Aragorn is King, since even the summary speaks of Gondor's royal family. And I say in the very first 10 sentences that Gandalf brought back Gilraen and Arathorn from death for an adventure, that is to meet Aragorn who fulfilled his fate and became king, so they can be proud and all. And I thought I also made it quite clear that Gandalf also took them BACK to death at the end of Introduction. I just wanted someone completely outsider to tell Prologue, Introduction and Epilogue and I like Arathorn and Gilraen, that's why Gandalf brought them back for a few days.


	2. Introduction - Part 1

So hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

And now let's get started. You guys see how Gandalf is always the one pulling the strings? I love Gandalf.

* * *

**INTRODUCTION** - Part 1

"Look who's there" Arathorn murmured as they made their way up to the sixth level of the White City of Minas Tirith. Her husband's plan was to find the Steward of Gondor and inquire about Gandalf's whereabouts. The wizard said he'd be waiting for them, but never mentioned when and where and since they didn't even have any idea what the date or time was, finding Gandalf without help could prove troublesome. According to Arathorn, only a person with reasonable amount of authority would have any chance of knowing where Gandalf might be. Gilraen turned her eyes to see who her husband meant.

That young lord emerged in front of them, who led the party to rescue Sybille not much more than a week ago. His spring breeze tangled straw blond hair was only long enough to brush his shoulders and dark blue cloak with the White Tree sewn across its back. He was accompanied by a graying fair haired man, at least twenty years older than himself, dressed in rich leather attire and a very much similar cloak.

"Look who's there" he called out as he saw them. Gilraen had to suppress a chuckle as she heard her husband sigh as the men approached.

"Who are you, people, and what are you doing here?" asked the older man bewildered.

"Traders, they are" the man named Barahin answered him instantly. "From the south, heading north, or at least that's what they claim."

"I'd rather know what they claim doing up here. Who let you up?" he demanded.

"My lord—"

"Lord Commander. Lord Beregond is the Commander of the Guard of the Citadel." Barahin cut him across bluntly.

"Lord Commander, then, we are here, because we wish to have an audience with the Lord Steward." Arathorn said.

"The Lord Steward holds audience on Thursdays."

"And today is…" Gilraen put in trailing off and hoping her sentenced would be finished.

"Friday" Lord Commander Beregond, Commander of the Guard of the Citadel frowned.

"But… you don't expect us to wait a whole week to see him, do you?" Arathorn blurted.

"I very well do so! You'll be seeing the Lord Steward when _he_ says, not when _you _say. Who gave you leave to enter the sixth level at all?"

"No one said we couldn't come up, my lord…" Arathorn told him with an apologetic look.

"No one said…!" he was lost of words in outrage and looked at his younger companion, whose eyes kindled with anger and joy equally.

"What's enough is enough. Nobody can question it now" he said almost eagerly.

"No one said they couldn't come up." The commander echoed. "Hallbard has to go. That man is no fit for being Captain of the City Guard. I bet he's no fit for being Captain of his own household. To allow strangers wander freely in the City after what happened is insufferable!"

The prospect that they might sack this Hallbard from his office for letting strangers up seemed to make the two lords completely forget about her and Arathorn along with their trading and business with the steward. Gilraen could scarcely see what was such a big deal about setting foot on the sixth level, since it was, so far, utterly empty.

Except for a third nobleman just showing up in the gate mounted on his huge black stallion riding up the street towards them. The Commander's face lit up as he saw the rider approach. Gilraen thought if there was someone _she _would be eager to protect the sixth level from, that'd be this man. Though his dark leather attire, fine and rich, spoke of noble blood, his black circle beard trimmed back, his head shaven bold, his massive thighs, hard features and slightly hooked nose made him look more like some savage pirate captain rather than a Gondorian lord.

"Torundir!" Barahin waved at the man who trotted up to them and dismounted.

"Tell me, brother" he patted the young lord on the shoulder and inclined his head at the commander with a grimace Gilraen eventually identified as a smile.

"You don't know what you are missing" announced the commander excitedly.

"What am I missing?" the bald man asked in weary uninterest.

"These people" Barahin gestured at her and Arathorn, though the one named Torundir gave them scarcely more notice than a quick glance "walked up to the sixth level without once being asked what they were doing in the city. Do you know what that means?"

"That the Captain of the City Guard must be sacked and you must be put in his place" a pleased grin spread over his lips under his moustache.

"He's not near senior" the commander shook his head.

"_You _must be put in his place" Barahin corrected and the commander gave a wide grin of agreement.

"Me? No way." Their friend said with a throaty chuckle. "I won't be Captain of the City Guard."

"Why not? It's a great office. With a fair income."

Gilraen looked at Arathorn. Did they really have to dive into the machinations of the officers of Minas Tirith? But the scenario seemed to amuse her husband.

"It's a boring office and I have just perfectly enough income. I'm not going to ask for it."

"You don't need to ask, you only need to accept it." The commander said sternly.

"I won't accept it either." His friend insisted with a dark glare of his coal eyes.

"Why the hell not?" Barahin looked startled. "You are the most suitable"

Gilraen herself had some minor doubts about that. The man reminded him of the large ugly pirates who attacked lost ladies in dark allyways after pillaging their towns. He scared her.

"I don't want the bloody office. Boring and troublesome with too much fucking administration. I should go teach." His tone left no place for argument.

"There's no teaching this day." Barahin pointed out.

"Then signing and sealing bloody warrants for youths leaving the bloody Academy, whatever you call it. We'll speak in the evening." He patted Barahin on the back again and nodded to the commander "Beregond." Then mounted up to take his leave.

As their friend left the two men exchanged an incredulous look and sadly, their attention turned back to Gilraen and Arathorn.

"So what were you doing here, again?"

"Look who's _finally _here!" a familiar voice rang and Gandalf the Grey emerged from behind the commander hurrying toward them. Only, he seemed a deal whiter than last time Gilraen saw him.

"Gandalf the White!" Arathorn exclaimed at once overwhelmed with joy and relief. "We are saved." He embraced the wizard drawing the most lost and puzzled looks to the faces of the lords Barahin and Beregond.

"My dear lady, it's been too long!" Gandalf grinned as he saw her.

"Dear Gandalf, you don't know how glad we are to see you."

"Gandalf" the commander cleared his throat. "You know these people? They came—"

"Beregond, I'm most grateful to you for receiving my dear guests"

"Your guests? They never once mentioned they are your guests. They claimed being traders and demanded to see the steward." Barahin told the wizard frowning at them.

"Traders?" Gandalf burst out laughing. "And what did you want from the Lord Faramir?"

"Who is Lord Faramir?" Arathorn asked bluntly.

"Why, the Steward of Gondor." The wizard replied smiling and Gilraen saw outrage spread across the two lords' faces.

"Echtelion's son?"

The commander looked as though he was going to faint.

"Erm…" Gandalf tried to swallow his laughter. "Lord Echtelion died a good while ago. His son, the Lord Denethor succeeded him and died also a good while ago. Lord Faramir is _his _second born son."

"Oh. My pardons" Her husband said, clearly uncomfortable.

"But what did you want of him?" Gandalf asked confused.

"We thought he could give us leave to trade in the city…" Gilraen joked with a small smile.

"You would have wasted a good week waiting for the Steward's audience then." Gandalf chuckled. "Did these gallant lords not tell you that to open your shop in the city you need a permit with the _king's _seal?"

Gilraen gaped at him her heart pounding as never before.

"You don't mean…?"

"I very well mean, my lady" Gandalf said with a bow of the head.

Gilraen thought she was going to cry. Beside her Arathorn seemed to be at loss of words. He probably had no idea what to feel, when he died, Aragorn barely talked and walked. But to her, their son was the world…

"I want to see him" She pressed out through dried lips.

"The King is in Osgiliath" Gandalf said lightly. "But he'll be back for the feast tonight and you will see him."

"Gandalf…" started the commander, but Gandalf didn't let him finish this time either.

"Thank you for your kind and dutiful service, Beregond, I'll be taking care of the lord and lady from now on."

The commander nodded without a flinch. Only his eyes spoke of his disbelief and confusion. He gestured at Barahin and they made their way toward the Council Keep.

"I hope they didn't harass you much" Gandalf apologized.

"I want to see my son" Gilraen repeated. She didn't know why, she understood she couldn't, but she didn't really find anything else coming to her lips.

"You will, my lady, I ask your patience. In fact I expected you a lot earlier, you know, I didn't think he'd be out of city when you came."

"You expected us here? Luck we decided to pay a detour here on our way north."

"When I said north…ah. You meant North. I only meant the north of Gondor, I hoped you'd figure, ah, forgive my old head. Anyway." He turned back to Gilraen. "I'd take you to the _queen _if only she hadn't just left for a bath when I took my leave."

She saw Arathorn look up with half a grin and incredulous kindle in his eyes.

"Who's the queen?"

"Lord Elrond's daughter."

Gilraen beamed. Arwen was so kind and so in love with Aragorn. She knew they'd marry once and she knew Aragorn would be king once. Only, so soon… she was so happy, so very overwhelmed with love and joy for her son and for Arwen…

"I'm so sorry you can't see either of them" the wizard grimaced. "But let me take you for a walk, we'll have a look around your son's court, we may even find acquaintances, who knows" he winked at them and gestured them toward a wide street, the one the pirate looking officer rode down. "Here we'll find the High Academy. Nobel children are being taught miscellaneous things— But look, we _will _find acquaintances, just as I hoped" the wizard cheered and gestured them along the street leading into the fancy green foregarden of the Academy dotted with flowerpots, saplings, stone benches and a girl perching on one of them. Her golden hair sparkled in the sunlight matching the shimmer of the silver embroidery and pearl decoration of her splendid dress of white, silvery and pale blue silks and satins. Though her eyes were fixed on her fists in her lap, she still seemed unmistakably familiar.

"Sybille?" Gilraen called at her half happy, half surprised. They did meet again, sooner than she'd have thought. The girl did not look at her, however, Sybille's eyes found Gandalf's who then stood uncomfortably from on foot to the other.

"Gandalf?" she smiled.

"Milady…?" a wizard uttered with an apologetic face so unlike him.

Sybille shook her head and turned her gaze, empty of recognition at Gilraen and Arathorn.

"I'm not Sybille" she said.

Gilraen looked at Arathorn confused. She wasn't? But the girl spent a day with them, she _looked_ like this. Just like this.

"Of course not, forgive me, milady …" the wizard turned back at Gilraen and Arathorn wide eyed. "You _know _Sybille?"

"Yes, do you know her too?" Arathorn raised an eyebrow at his friend.

Jingling laughter echoed through the arcades of the Academy and _another_ golden haired girl appeared arming a fair haired youth giving a shriek of delight as she saw them.

"So you _came!_ I'm so happy! I so hoped you would! And just in due time, we'll have a feast tonight, please be my guests as I was yours! Isn't it just splendid that you visited?" _Sybille_ laughed at them hurrying down the stairs with the youth, Florian who came to her recue back at the river. Gilraen stared at her and the stranger girl on the bench and saw Arathorn do the same, and Gandalf staring at _them _rather than the girls.

"You are twins" Arathorn finally said.

"That is a spectacular observation" The girl on the bench said not entirely without irony.

"From where do you know Sybille?" Gandalf repeated the question intensely.

"They are my dear friends, who freed me from those southrons and kept me safe until my gallant sweetheart came to my rescue" Sybille explained smiling and Arathorn nodded in agreement returning the girl's smile.

"We found Sybille with them by the Sirith." Florian added.

"Ah, that was you. Nice to meet you" Sybille's twin said unmistakably friendlier.

Gandalf was lost though.

"YOU freed her? …and you didn't…? She didn't….? None of you had the sense to recognize the other?"

"They only figured I was some high born maiden of Gondor" Sybille said with a small giggle.

"It was not far from the truth" Gandalf turned back to Arathorn and her shaking his head in disbelief. "Highborn, and of Gondor, but not just some maiden, the princess of Gondor."

Gilraen stared at Sybille. She stared at her golden hair, pale blue eyes, curvy cheekbones, thin nose, full pink lips, slender figure, porcelain skin. She stared at Aragorn's daughter.

Gilraen felt tears welling in her eyes and she bit her lower lip to hold them back. She felt Arathorn's hand on her shoulder and looked at him to see her husband's eyes wide with emotion as well. She turned her head back to Sybille, who seemed a little puzzled now.

"You move people so, sister" came a teasing jest from the stone bench.

"Gilraen! What's wrong with you?" Sybille frowned at her sister annoyed. "They are nice people, why do you have to be so rude?"

Arathorn was the first one to turn and stare at the girl on the bench and Gilraen followed him wide eyed.

"If I remember correctly, you looked a bit like them at this age, my lady" Gandalf said smirking at her under his moustach. "No wonder your son had a mind to name his first born daughter after you."

"What?" Sybille's twin looked up bewildered.

"He named you after _me_?" Gilraen looked at her tears running down her face.

"What is this all about?" the girl demanded of Gandalf. "Gandalf, _who _are they?"

"Your lord father's parents, milady, in case that wasn't clear so far" The wizard smiled.

Gilraen saw Sybille's jaw drop and Florian's eyes widen and her namesake's face darken.

"No. My father's parents are dead. Dead. You are dead, aren't you?" she looked at Arathorn.

"We are." He nodded without hesitation.

"B-b-but… " Sybille started looking helplessly at Florian.

"Can I hug you?" Gilraen blurted at the girl. Sybille looked completely lost for a moment then. But after that moment she seemed to have decided it was best to get over the unchangeable fact of her long deceased grandparents standing in front of her.

"Why, why not!" she shook her head laughing and embraced Gilraen. "So what now? Shall I call you grandmother and grandfather?" she laughed again.

"If you will…" Arathorn shrugged in disbelief.

"My lord, my lady, I beg your forgiveness for all the offense we gave you back at Sirith." Florian spoke suddenly.

"Forget about it" Arathorn waved him off as he gave their new granddaughter an awkward hug too.

"I can't believe this…" Gilraen muttered looking from one girl to the other. Sybille's twin still had her eyebrows raised at the scenario.

"Gilraen! Come and greet grandmother and grandfather now!" Sybille laughed scolding.

Her sister stepped forward and curtsied at them.

"Well… life is madness anyway… why not have some grandparents back from the dead…" she said shaking her head and gave a swift hug to Gilraen.

"I can't believe I can see you, darlings… you are so beautiful both and grown up already" Gilraen muttered glancing at Florian as she spoke the last words.

"I was wondering, my ladies" Gandalf spoke up beside them. "Do you have any idea of your _brother's_ whereabouts, by any chance?"

Gilraen looked up at that. Of course. Sybille mentioned her brother. They had a brother. An heir of Gondor. A son of Aragorn.

"He rode to Osgiliath with the King" Florian answered instead of the girls.

"Of course he did…" Gandalf hummed unhappily. "By the way" he spoke up again "this young man, Florian here, is the son of Lord Malberen, important member of the King's Council. He's a brother to Lord Barahin who you have already met, a good friend of the Prince Eldarion and the betrothed of Princess Sybille."

"Yes, we have met him before too" Arathorn said and bowed his head at the youth. "Well met, Lord Florian"

"Not lord, yet, not near, my lord. I'm most happy to meet you" he replied bowing. "Also most happy to meet you, my lady" he bowed at Gilraen too.

She smiled warmly at him and looked at Sybille who beamed and giggled.

"I'm so excited. I wonder what father will say when he sees you here. He'll be so pleased! And Eldarion too! Just as I am!"

"No more than we'll be" Arathorn smiled at her. "So now I understand why this chance of coming back for a last time is so invaluable… I have a grandson and two granddaughters—"

"Four" the young Gilraen, their granddaughter cut Arathorn across.

"_Four?_" he stared at her.

"We have two sisters!" Sybille announced joyful. "We could go and see them right now!"

"I have yet to collect my warrants" her sister smoothed her skirts stepping forward.

"Why didn't you get the warrants yet? Mother told you to be quick about it! I told you I wanted to go and prepare for tonight as soon as possible. I have already collected them, why didn't you come with me when I went?"

Her other granddaughter looked pale and her face stiffened.

"It is not yet noon" she formed the words carefully trying to warm up her ice cold voice.

"Why don't you go and give a tour to your lady grandmother while Gilraen gets her warrants, dearest?" Florian suggested soothing Sybille.

"That'd be wonderful" the other twin agreed giving Florian a thankful glance.

"Lord Arathorn and I would accompany you as well and I'll tell him of Sauron's Defeat" Gandalf grinned at her husband.

"Sauron was _defeated_?" Arathorn looked positively hooked.

"Fine" Sybille agreed with a sigh too. "Let us go and see the High Academy then!"

And so they did. She, Arathorn, Gandalf, Sybille and her twin Gilraen after Florian and Sybille made their lovers farewell and the youth took his leave. Sybille told wonderful tales of each detail of the academy, of the things they were taught, of the different tutors. Her twin sister was either silent or helping out Sybille when the girl didn't remember something. Soon her namesake left to gather her warrant which was an official pact declaring that she is an educated young lady containing her final results – as Sybille informed Gilraen. When young Gilraen returned with a sealed scroll in her hand, she had a short quarrel with Sybille about whether the warrant said the same as Sybille's or not.

"But I want to see your results! I can't understand why you won't show it to me!"

After examining her sister's results thoroughly, Sybille started commenting the different lessons they had, Singing, Music, Dancing, Hunting…

"Why do they teach you such thing as Hunting?" Gilraen asked the girls wondering.

"If only I knew, it's so awful. It's so boring. I don't even like riding. It's so uncomfortable and you get sore from the saddle and dirty from the horse. We always had to ride on that stupid lesson…" Sybille wrinkled her pretty face and rather went on talking about things she liked such as embroidery, needlework, drawing, dancing, singing, poetry and all the activities ladylike enough for her taste. Her sister sometimes made faces and raised incredulous eyebrows at her, but otherwise she walked silently and sullenly beside them up to the citadel, to the palace.

Gilraen was sitting in Sybille and Gilraen's parlor while her two granddaughters prepared for the feast. Sybille alone had five maids helping her, making a bath, washing her hair, preparing her gown, her jewels, bringing boxes of scented oils for her to choose from, lacing her bodice, untangling the layers of silk skirts, shaping nails and pinning her drying locks. Her twin had only one maid around and another helping the first maid to make her bath. Sybille chattered for hours about the young lords attending and listed two or three dozens of names her sister would dance with, who grew more and more tense with each new name.

Gilraen asked her other granddaughter if there was anyone in particular she'd like to dance with. Even is there was, it'd make no difference – the girl pointed out – because there'll be dozens of suitors with whom she'll have to dance now that they were all forced to give up on Sybille. Sybille then confided how everyone was eager to convince her sister to choose somebody, because it was high time and a double wedding was also their mother's dream. Gilraen listened to her amused and smiling. It was so good to see them.

"Are you ready?" Sybille demanded from the closed oaken door of her sister's bedchamber.

"Yes" came the weary reply and she emerged from behind the door. She looked just as splendid as Sybille. Her long golden locks arranged and pinned under a jeweled hairnet, the rest streaming down her back. Her gown was the same as Sybille's too, the bodice heavily decorated with gemstones, low cut and revealing the soft ivory skin of her cleavage and tops of her shoulders. The sleeves were long, embroidered with silver but cut up to the elbow for air and to make it easy to dance in them. Their skirts were the same pale peach and silvery silk and satin swirling around their hips and feet, flying as Sybille spun around admiring herself in a large mirror brought out by a maid.

"Can we go?"

"No! What do you think? We must wait for Eldarion and father and mother and Florian and we must find a proper dress for grandmother too!" Sybille scolded and beaconed at a maid. "Take grandmother with you and find her a proper dress for the feast!"

When Gilraen returned, now in a proper dress for the feast, it was only young Gilraen she found in the solar and a dark haired youth with his back to the door.

"… at least that's what I heard. But really, he didn't, did he? I mean how?" He finished with a shrug.

Her granddaughter replied with a twitch of her mouth that could be a smirk: "I don't know how, that's Gandalf. She is right here" She gestured at her and the youth turned.

Aragorn was standing in front of her. Or would, if he were still twenty. Gilraen's eyes widened. It wasn't him, really, his nose was different, and his eyes were somewhat bluer too. And yet he was Aragorn at the age of twenty, with his face and stracture, his shoulder length dark hair standing in front of her with all his six feet height.

"Eldarion!" snapped Sybille's jingling voice from her bedchamber door. "Why aren't you dressed yet?" she stared at him horrorstruck.

Eldarion looked back at the girls, first at Gilraen, then at Sybille and finally his eyes fell back to her. Then he started laughing.

"What's wrong with you?" Sybille hurried to him and pinched his arm. "GO and dress. Have you said your greetings to grandmother yet?"

"No…" he tried to gather his dignity. "Please forgive my insolence. It'll take me some mistakes to find out how one's supposed to act with his long deceased grandmother standing in the middle of a room. I'm happy to meet you! We've heard a lot about you my lady and about Lord Arathorn too. I haven't yet had the chance to meet him."

"I don't know where he is. I'm, too, very happy to meet you, Eldarion." Gilraen smiled. "Just please don't call me my lady, it's so weird. Even grandmother is less weird, I suppose…"

"True." Eldarion agreed with a grin. "Well… our lives are full of adventures, sweet sisters, two grandparents and magnificent feast, a friend for brother-in-law" he winked at Sybille at that "hopefully some not so annoying lordling for another now" he glared at his other sister who took a deep breath and made herself smile in return.

"Five grandchildren out of blue…" Gilraen offered.

"Well said" Eldarion burst out laughing. "Yes, what can we do with an absurd? Accept it for the best, I say."

"Very well, now please prepare yourself. We have barely an hour left." Sybille interjected.

"Dear sister, I'm a grown man, I know when and how to dress myself. But fine. I'll go dress. Only because you asked nicely" he winked at Sybille and took his leave. "Dear sisters, grandmother…goodness, so weird… Until soon."

"He is charming really." Gilraen turned to the girls. Eldarion was everything and nothing she expected. Amazing young man just as his father was.

"You spoke about three sentences to him" young Gilraen said in disbelief.

Soon they set out for the throne room where the girls were supposed to meet the rest of their family. Eldarion was already there with a dirty blond haired youth, who turned out to be Lord Faramir's son, Elboron. They chatted a little about the feast and the twins before they finally heard footsteps approaching from one of the hallways, and the King and Queen of Gondor appeared in the throne room, all gapes and tears when they caught sight of her. Gandalf was marching behind them and Gilraen spotted her husband on their son's right. Gilraen felt tears welling in her eyes as her son, the King of Gondor walked up to embrace her.

* * *

That was it for now, Introduction Part 2 is coming up tomorrow.

Please read and review, because I want to know what you think about the story, the characters, the society or anything at all. I'll be so happy to answer any question that comes to your mind, too, so feel free to ask.

And you know, if you don't like it...

I know Beregond was actually exiled, but I wasn't going to make up a whole new character to fill his place, right? Also, I always liked him for some reason.


	3. Introduction - Part 2

So hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

And let's move on with the second and last part of this War and Peace long Introduction now and meet even more people, hahaha *evil grin*

And I cheated, I didn't wait another day to post this, so at least in this aspect the introduction will be kind of whole.

* * *

**INTRODUCTION** - Part 2

They were seated on the dais. With Aragorn, Arwen and the two younger princesses, Brianneth, Aryana; with Gandalf, Legolas of Mirkwood and a dwarf lord named Gimli; the steward, Lord Faramir who they basically searched for and his wife Lady Éowyn, son Elboron and their other children whose names Gilraen couldn't all remember. The great hall of the High Academy was crowded with long tables and benches around a larger room left for dancers and musicians. There were hundreds of guests, the families of the youth and maids leaving the Academy, high lords and ladies, noblemen and noblewomen, masters and tutors of the Academy, officers, councilors. Her granddaughters and Arwen listed hundreds of names, who was who, who was married to who, who held which office and more, she forgot half of it the instant she was told, and the rest a few minutes later.

Only the significant few remained in her head long enough to recall: Florian's parents, Lord Malberen and Lady Doriel, his brother who they knew too well, according to Gilraen's judgment at least, Lord Barahin and his wife Lady Ëlyel. She was also personally introduced to a certain Lord Galador who was Master of Economy in Gondor and his wife and sons and also to Lord Beregond, Lord Commander of the Guard of the Citadel who she also knew too well. Certainly, learning who she was made this Beregond a deal friendlier and utterly respectful and Gilraen thought he even meant all the apology he bestowed upon them once introduced. They also met the Master of the Academy whose name Gilraen had forgotten, but who was a really nice elderly man. His sons were officers and warfare tutors at the Academy. They occupied themselves with that because Gondor was at peace and thus their skills weren't required on the battlefield, but in the halls of knowledge and art to be passed on to those who would once succeed them. Aragorn said so. She also met some funny fat lord, named Rowel who came from South Gondor and was Commander of the Gondorian fleet. There was a strict faced woman too, Mistress Lenwë who was in charge of the House of Healing.

They were all soon seated though, for it was time for the once students to process and be welcomed to adulthood (or something like that – Gandalf said so) by the Master of the Academy and the Steward of Gondor. The Masters and the councilors occupied a whole table, as did the officers and their lords commander. Gilraen spotted the nice old Master of the Academy beside Lord Galador and his wife and his sons among the officers, not so far from Lord Beregond, Lord Commander of the Guard of the Citadel in company of his wife and his pirate looking friend whose name Gilraen also forgot.

Finally the youths and maidens arrived and processed from a back hall. First her granddaughters of course. The Master of the Academy said his farewells and welcomes to them and pledged them a song which was instantly performed by the Academy choire and the musicians waiting to the left to the dais. The melody was really pleasant, something lovely to dance for and the song itself went on about being good and being humble as keys to happiness, for vanity was naught but vanity. Gilraen liked the song a lot.

After Lord Faramir welcomed them as young ladies and lords of Gondor and Aragorn said a few words of future, then young lords and ladies took their places with their families so the meals would be served. Instantly, at least fifty servants appeared out of nowhere with wine and ale flagons and enormous trays of food. Roast pork, boar, rabbit, different birds and fishes, potatoes, vegetables, pastries, meat pies, fruits, cheese and everything that was barely imaginable in her life on Middle-Earth. Eldarion, Sybille and little Gilraen took their places on the dais soon enough to join them.

"…I so loved that song, I can't wait to dance for it, it was so kind of Master Erandur that he had it made for us! All about future and happiness" Sybille chattered happily as she took her seat between Gilraen and her sister, Gilraen. "I didn't understand this thing about _All vanity is vanity only_, though, what is with vanity in the future, really?"

"It means, in the future you should be less full of yourself" came the instant solution.

"Aryana!" Sybille cried out horrified at her young sister's retort and looked even more outraged when her twin beside her almost spit the content of her cup from laughter. To Aryana's misfortune Arwen heard them too and told them off both, Aryana for the jest and Gilraen for finding it funny.

As the courses came and went the girls had no time for much quarrel, though it seemed Aryana was not yet finished with Sybille, though young Gilraen's sullen look intensified with every passing hour. Sybille claimed every dish was splendid, yet Gilraen spotted that her granddaughter refused to eat fish and pork and duck and boar. But it seemed true that every cattle and chicken dish was splendid. Sybille also praised the wine of which Aragorn and Arwen allowed the twins two cups and Brianneth one.

Soon the musicians started on melodies to dance for and Eldarion and Lord Faramir's son, Elboron led the twins to the dance floor. Young Gilraen was hardly sitting from the moment the musicians begun to play, suitors ranging from sixteen to twenty-four were giving her hand to one another, never stopping propping up from nowhere, which Gilraen thought was Arwen's work combined with Sybille's. First, her granddaughter seemed to enjoy dancing but her joy turned into weariness with time. And with more time, into annoyance and rage. All the while Arwen would not take her eyes off her.

"She refuses everyone. Every single suitor. Would I turn away, she'd be sending them off even now."

"But surely you are not going to force anybody on her? After all you and Aragorn had been through." Gilraen soothed her with a knowing smile.

"I'm not trying to force _somebody_ on her, I'm only trying to get her to give _any_ of them a chance. You can't know you don't like somebody _before _knowing him. She is seventeen wanting three weeks. It's time she fell in love. Sybille is betrothed."

After young Gilraen returned with a stiff smile sewed onto her pale face to match her burning blue eyes she sat down to talk to the first person at hand, Aragorn's friend Gimli who was just abandoned by the Prince of Mirkwood who led Queen Arwen to dance. Before Gilraen could move closer to them, to talk to her granddaughter about her mother's point Aragorn dropped into his wife's high chair. Finally they could talk.

Arwen had danced three dances by the time she returned to them smiling and Aragorn moved back to his own throne at his wife's approach, but the queen was more than glad to have the three of them together. On Aragorn's other side his eldest daughter was still talking with Gimli. Or rather listening to him, as all he wanted was to tell his war stories to anybody who would listen. He was laughing loudly at something as he refilled his cup and his young listener didn't hesitate to share to his wine flagon either.

Gilraen insisted the role of the listener as well, she wanted to hear about her son and Arwen, she had enough of herself in the White Heavens. And so they spoke, of their wedding, of their children, of life at court, of how they missed her. Arwen was in the middle of a story featuring baby Eldarion and Aragorn's Elven dagger, when Aragorn suddenly turned around to face his daughter reaching for Lord Gimli's wine flagon to refill their cups.

"That'll be enough. I believe we said it'll be two cups, you have more than exceeded that"

Arwen took notice of her daughter's wine cup as well and scolded her indignantly. Gilraen looked at her namesake granddaughter too. She was silent and pale. Paler than the walls of the hall, yet her eyes sparkled in the candle and torch lit room. Whether with tears or defiance, Gilraen couldn't decide.

"Oh, I'm so thirsty!" Sybille lumped down into an empty chair beside Gilraen which was previously occupied by Aryana and for her twin's luck Aragorn and Arwen let go of the issue of the wine.

"Danced so much?" Aragorn asked her with a pleased smile.

"Too much, I'm afraid. I'm already breathless. Breathless, thirsty and hungry" she reached out for a sponge cake and offered one to her sister too, who shook her head.

"You should eat something. After all that wine." Arwen said with a stern look.

"I'm not hungry, thank you mother." Her voice never betrayed anything but courtesy.

"Just eat the cake, it will swallow up all the wine." Aragorn turned back to her other daughter.

"I'm fine, I'm not… it hasn't gone to my head, I never had that much. I'm really full with the dishes still, thank you, father."

"Not yet, but it will go to your head if you don't eat anything. We told you it was two cups, you never listened, now we are telling you to eat, be so kind and do _that _at least." Gilraen could tell he was still angry with his daughter. The girl dropped her gaze and reached for a cake with stiff arms.

"Here, care for some cream!" Sybille offered sensing that something wasn't right.

"No thank you—"

"Why not?" Arwen shoved the jar with sweet cream to her. "Your sister offered you some cream, behave for once and take some cream on that cake, it has no taste otherwise."

"I meant no offense. I just like it without cream—"she was taking the jar and the spoon nonetheless, Gilraen saw, but Arwen interrupted.

"How could you like it without cream? It has no taste without cream at all. That's why they make the cream. I don't understand, Gilraen, why you are so blindly stubborn…"

"I apologize, mother" the girl replied after a moment of silence.

"You'll look at your mother, when you apologize, your sister knew that when you were twelve." Aragorn shook his head.

Gilraen watched silently. She had no right intruding into a family quarrel and it seemed Sybille thought it best to remain mute too. Her twin lifted her head and slowly veered it at her mother.

"I apologize, mother" Her voice was low, clear and courteous, her face like the white stone walls of Minas Tirith. Arwen nodded and she and Aragorn turned back to Sybille and asked her if she liked her cake. Young Gilraen dropped her blonde head and put a spoon of cream onto her cake and took a bite. Maybe they were a little harsh on her, but parents had to be, Gilraen thought musing as she turned her attention to Sybille as well.

Another hour elapsed with talking when young Gilraen returned from the dance floor again.

"Mother, please, I'm not feeling well, may I be excused to retire for today?"

Arwen turned around the face her eldest daughter with a stunned look.

"But the feast has only been going on for some two-three hours! It's not yet half past nine! Look how many people are still dancing and feasting."

"I know and I'd be so sorry to miss the rest, but I got a bit of head ache and a bad stomach."

"You got a bad stomach and a bit of headache because of drinking heavier than it was fit" Aragorn pointed out.

"I'm not feeling well, please, father, may I be excused?" she sounded quite desperate.

"She really looks a little ill, maybe a good sleep would be more use for her. Permit the poor child to go and get some rest, son." Gilraen interjected looking at Aragorn.

"All right then, Gilraen, you may go and get well soon" Arwen gave her daughter a smile.

"Thank you mother, thank you father. Enjoy the feast!"

"Thank your grandmother too."

"Thank you, grandmother!" her granddaughter spluttered mechanically.

"Get well, dearest."

"Enjoy the feast!" she inclined her head in farewell, cutrsied and turned to take her leave.

"It is a very fine feast, very enjoyable." Gilraen observed as her namesake left through the front door.

It was closing midnight by the time they made up their minds to retire and fall back to the Citadel. Sybille pleaded to stay longer, but since all Aryana, Brianneth and Eldarion consented to go the royal family set off which basically meant the end of the feast. Some drunk youths were remaining only and of course the half a hundred servants to clean up the great hall after the great feast. They walked up to the Citadel together, Aragorn's friends only said their goodbyes to them in the Throne Room.

"Where will we sleep?" Arathorn asked their son once it was only them and Gandalf left with the royal family.

"I have made arrangements for rooms to be prepared for you" the wizard said at once before Arwen could open her mouth. "It is in the other end of the Guest Wing, though."

"Oh, I'd be most happy to accompany them!" Sybille offered.

"That'd be most kind of you" Gilraen smiled at her granddaughter.

They wished good night to Aragorn and Arwen and Eldarion and set off with their granddaughters.

"The shortest way is along our corridor" Brianneth explained and sighed. "I so loved this feast!"

Sybille giggled and both girls told them their favorite moments of the feast. They were finished with the favorite moments by the time they reached the end of the hallway where they came upon young Gilraen. She was coming from the garden and fresh air did seem to do the trick, she looked a little better. They all wished her good night and the girl went back to her bedchamber to rest.

"Here we are!" Brianneth halted as they reached a large opened door leading to another corridor.

"Good night, darlings, have a long and sweet sleep!"

"Thank you so grandmother, thank you grandfather!" Sybille smiled "We wish you all the same good night!"

They turned and went back to their rooms so she and Arathorn were alone again ready and eager to discuss their new found family all night long.

They were all seated at the table by the time Gilraen and her husband found their way into the right hall: the king, the queen, the prince and all princesses. In the morning a serving girl came to inform them that the King wished them to share a breakfast with the royal family, though she never cared to tell them how they could get to the King's dining hall. They apologized for being late, but this meal seemed far less formal than the feast the last night. Aragorn was talking with Eldarion and beaconed at them to join the conversation, which Arathorn did so. Gilraen herself took a seat by Arwen's side who was talking with her daughters.

"Did you sleep well?" the queen asked her smiling.

"Very well, thank you, my dear." Gilraen inclined her head and smiled at her granddaughters around. "And you, Gilraen, I'm glad to see you feel better." The older twin raised her head and gave her a small courteous smile.

"I really am, thank you. I slept long and well."

"I can't say the same. All night I was dreaming of Cirion…" Brianneth sighed sweetly and her mother gave her a fond look.

"First love… I so remember." Arwen chuckled.

"Who is Cirion? That skinny ugly boy you danced with?" Aryana put in.

"Aryana, I'm begging you, behave yourself." Arwen pleaded with her and turned back to Gilraen. "I would really like to show you the city today, if it'd please you. It's really beautiful all around here. In spite of all the stone and rock. And we could spend a little more time together before we part."

"I'd really love to. It warms my heart only to lay eyes upon you all" Gilraen answered.

"Very well, I thought we could all go for a short ride around the city and in the Pelennor Field as well, and see the gardens too."

"Aren't you busy? Surely Aragorn has a lot to do and…"

"You are our guests _and _my deceased parents. Surely you ought to have every minute of my time while here" Aragorn interjected with a smile.

And so they went for a ride in the city after breakfast. In half an hour the stable boys had horses saddled for them and they set off. The day was extremely hot for Mayday, Sybille couldn't stop complaining about the sun. On the sixth level they rode past the Academy to visit the practice field stretched behind the enormous white building. The place was crowded beyond belief, Gilraen thought it was some sort of training time, Florian and Elboron, Lord Barahin and many other lords she saw on last night's feast were out shooting arrows, throwing spears, dueling with blunted tourney swords. Once they caught sight of the royal family approaching, they greeted them with cheers inviting the prince and the king, bowing to the queen. Aragorn and Eldarion kindly refused and halted for a word with everybody walking up to them.

"Oh it's for the best Your Grace won't join" Elboron grinned up at Eldarion with a jolly grimace. "I already count seven rounds of defeats, I don't need an eighth."

"Ah, Elboron, don't take it to your heart. You already had your winning round last night" Florian chuckled patting him on the shoulder, giving the prince a knowing grin and Elboron rolled his eyes grimacing. Sybille giggled and Eldarion shook with laughter.

"Winning… spare me… a real victory by night brings one victory by day too…" Elboron muttered moodily. "I was beaten by Torundir…" he started counting on his fingers.

"Who wasn't?" Florian interjected throwing back a blunted sword at his brother who just lost it to the pirate-man.

"…by your brother, by you, the younger Forlan brother, Galadion…by Finduras and Deoron."

"Tomorrow we'll come out and I'll let you beat me" Eldarion offered grinning and they rode on as Aragorn seemed to have finished his conversation too.

Once they returned to the streets the only people they saw were common folk and some guards and servants. They could here the most amusing and most disgusting pieces of discussions as they passed among them. One smith master and his apprentice on their way to some high lord's keep discussed how the smith's wife was making him miserable; an ugly woman was complaining to her companion how her children ate the apples she meant to sell. A fat housekeeper, though, entertained a serving girl, probably her own daughter about how their lord brought some woman to his bed again and how his sheets were spilled with everything no one of their procession wished to hear. The same unpleasant it was to listen to a young lad confiding with his friend how he pissed and puked himself last night in the back of an inn where he got drunk.

The sun was already at its highest by the time they rode out into the Pelennor field. Aragorn told them about the Battle of Pelennor as the trotted on the fields and Arwen told her husband of her intention to have some rare flowers of the field planted in her gardens.

"Who'll race me to that tree and back?" Eldarion suddenly turned to his sisters pointing into the distance.

"What's the point? We never come any near to riding you down" Sybille grimaced.

"I will!" Aryana said excited.

"You especially won't" Sybille laughed.

"Why?" her little sister snapped at her in retort "I can ride _you _down, though that's indeed not any near Eldarion."

"How would it be? Anyway, I'm older, I have longer legs, you couldn't possibly ride me down."

At that her twin sister burst out laughing and even Arathorn was struggling to hold back a chuckle. Gilraen didn't know too much of riding, she sat the horse and made it move but that was all as far as she was concerned.

"Let's see" Aryana grinned wickedly.

"Fine!" Sybille agreed angrily.

"I want to go too!" Brianneth said. She always wanted to do everything her sister did, it seemed, Sybille was her idol.

"You mean you want to lose" Aryana smirked.

"You'll _all _lose." Eldarion put it. "None of you will come any near riding me down, remember? Gilraen, you must come too. Everyone does."

"I will" his sister agreed wearily.

They reined their horses in line and asked Arathorn to give them signal. Once he did they put their heels into the horses and rode off. Eldarion's stallion and Gilraen's mare broke into a gallop at once, which gave the two a good advantage. Brianneth Sybille and Aryana put their horses into gallop quick enough too, though Sybille's objection to the race seemed clearly well based. It was only Aryana of the three who managed to catch up with her elder sister and brother, though the elder twin was still at least two horses behind Eldarion.

Eldarion reached the muddy pool left behind by the work of rain and some ignorant travelers. His horse jumped the pool as easily as children did hopscotch, but Gilraen had doubts whether her granddaughters could do the same. Young Gilraen could, it seemed. She gave the head to her mare, leaned forth in the saddle and landed on the other side with the wind whipping at her skirts. Her jump wasn't as steady and surefooted as her brother's but graceful and more than apt for a young princess. Aryana spurred her horse into the jump too, but the horses' hind legs landed in mud on the other side and spattered the mare and Aryana's skirt. Sybille and Brianneth didn't even attempt to jump, they turned around the pool and followed in an easy gallop, completely aware that they'd never catch up with the other three already on their way back from the aimed tree.

"She dirtied herself so…" Arwen grimaced. "She could have ridden _around it_."

"She did it deftly for a girl of her age" Aragorn mused smiling at her youngest daughter.

"And she did ride down Sybille" Gilraen laughed.

"Gilraen rides well" her husband noted never taking his eyes of the racers.

"She does indeed" their son's reply sounded surprised.

Eldarion was back first, of course, though short in breath as he slowed and reined his horse around to see the runner up. His eldest sister reached them next clearly _out _of breath and right after her Aryana wheezing and grinning at the sisters she left behind.

"Where the hell did you learn to ride like that?" Eldarion gaped at his sister.

"_I _prefer riding to singing and chatting stupidly!" Aryana retorted pointing at Sybille and Brianneth still approaching.

"Not _you_, I know _you _have three boys lost within you, but_ she _doesn't. Since when do you ride like that, Gilraen?"

"I really don't know" the girl shook her head in disbelief, clearly surprised at herself.

"Good gracious, I feel like I have three brothers, rather than one" Sybille giggled as she and her sister arrived.

"I feel like your long and pretty legs weren't of much use in the end, darling sister" Eldarion grinned and winked at Aryana.

"Surely, they are of more use when I dance with my betrothed, brother." She twinkled at him sweetly.

They pressed on after the children's race, but turned back soon afterwards, because Aragorn had to hold council meeting. After Aragorn left for his council and took his father and son and Gandalf with him, Gilraen went to the gardens with Arwen and the princesses. They chatted and laughed and had some cakes while the men were away. It was a bittersweet thing to sit with them like that, knowing that they'd have to depart with Gandalf at sunset. She refused to think about that all day. But now… she had to prepare her heart for goodbye.

And at the end, it was even more bittersweet than she thought. She didn't want to stay, she knew that well enough. They didn't belong here, she could feel that. But she so loved them. Her son and Arwen and all the children, even though she scarcely knew them. She loved Sybille, a charming, beautiful lady just like her mother, and Gilraen, who was named after her. She was still struggling to become what Sybille already was and there was this strange sullenness about her, but still lovely, she was, beyond words. Brianneth was a blooming young lady full of dreams and hopes for Sybille's and Arwen's life. And Aryana, a willful wild little girl, her father's daughter. Eldarion was Aragorn at the age of twenty coming again. Slightly hot headed, cheerful, full of life but wise beyond his years.

Gilraen was surprised not to shed any tears. But everything felt right in her heart now. She could go back and rest in peace now. She and Arathorn would have something to talk of in the White Heavens now, something to look down upon from time to time, something to remember with joy. Arwen wept though, and Sybille too. Brianneth was teary, Aryana and Gilraen solemn just as Eldarion. Aragorn's grayish blue eyes were shining with unshed tears as he hugged her and bid them farewell. Gilraen took her husband's arm and turned away from their son and his family the last thing she meant to lay eyes upon in life.

* * *

So Gilraen returned to Heaven with Arathorn. (For now) Which means that we'll start off with the story in the next chapter :O Chapter 1 - The Beginning is coming up tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 1 - The Beginning

So hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

So Gilraen (Aragorn's mother) left and now it's time to turn our attention to her granddaughter.

* * *

**THE END**

Queen Arwen stormed past a pair of guards skirts flapping in fury and burst open the heavy oaken doors of the royal dining hall.

"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I beg you listen—" she pleaded for the hundredth time as she hurried after her.

"No, Gilraen!" her mother cut her across mercilessly. "I have listened. More than I cared to. And you what? I'm sick of listening to you, I've heard far more than enough!"

Princess Gilraen looked around the hall helplessly. Her father, brother and all sisters were seated around the table looking utterly aghast at the scene before them. Except for Sybille, of course, who knew full well what was going on; and thus kept her stubborn gaze at her meal.

"I wish I hadn't heard a word! I wish I hadn't listened to you. Would that I knew what you were going to say, I'd never have." Her mother raged on. "I can't believe you did this to us. I can't believe you did this to your father", she gestured at the king "I can't believe you did this to your sister!" she gestured at Sybille.

"Arwen what's the meaning of this?" her father put in with a confused look.

"What? What?" she almost screamed and Gilraen knew the tone was meant for her. "You'll surely rejoice to learn the meaning of this."

"Mother—"

"No! Don't you mother me! Not after this! Not after standing in front of me with your disgrace. You should be silent, after all your filth, after shaming your rank, your sisters, your brother, your whole family. You shamed us, me and your father, the whole royalty and the realm!"

"Gilraen—" Her father started.

"Oh, forgive me, you wish to know the meaning of this" the queen turned to him pale with hurt and wrath. "Let me confide with you."

"Mother, please!" Gilraen's eyes grew wide with terror. She couldn't do this, she must let _her _tell him. _She _wanted to tell him, it'd be less bad like that. "Let me tell Father. I'm begging you, let me speak with him!"

"And why would I let you do that? Why would you speak with him? You never had it in your mind to speak with your father in the past…" her voice trembled with emotion, and the way the she trailed off was terrifying. All color that was left went from her mother's face. "How long?" her voice was but a deadly whisper.

Gilraen's mouth opened and closed. She dropped her gaze as she tried to suck back her tears. Tears of fear, desperation, helplessness and shame. _It can't get any worse_, she thought and raised her head to look the queen in the eyes.

"Three months." She said in a low voice.

Her mother, like a wounded game, blinded by hurt and insult slapped her across the face with such a forceful swing it sent dots flying across her vision. From the corner of her eyes she saw her father and siblings leaping to their feet as she stumbled back against a thick pillar by the door.

"Tell me now, what was _that_ for?!" she heard the king's demanding voice.

"Brianneth, take Aryana and go away. Stay in your rooms until I go and fetch you." Her mother said trying to sound as calm as possible. "They don't need to hear your filth." She added to Gilraen with an icy look.

Gilraen watched as her sisters were escorted out of the door. She didn't say a word, she didn't cry, she didn't move. She just stood and watched, preparing herself for what was to come.

**THE BEGINNING **

_Three months ago__  
_

Finally it was over. Gilraen lowered her bow and turned her gaze away from the arrow that never even hit the target, not to mention the bull's eye. The silence in the wide practice hall echoed through the thick stone pillars sickeningly. Gilraen walked to nearest stone bench and sank down in helplessness.

"Your performance today could be concluded as a bucket of horse shit."

"I know" she said observing the straw covered stone floor under her feet.

"I don't say you are a marksman, but you usually do better than this."

She knew that too. So she kept staring at the ground, in case she might find there something she didn't know. Pounding footsteps and a dark shadow gave away his approach, and the soft sound of creasing leather which she already heard at close quarters as he sat down beside her.

"Is something wrong?"

"No" she replied sullenly without looking up. _And it's even true_, she thought bitterly. Nothing was wrong, except with herself.

"Let me rephrase the question. _What _is wrong?"

Gilraen sniffed soundlessly. There's no way he'd just drop it, is there? She stood up to put her bow back to its place.

"Nothing" she said as she walked to the rail. "It's… it's stupid, really."

She wasn't going to tell him. She felt ashamed admitting it even to herself.

"You are smarter than to be upset about stupid things."

He walked up to her and took the bow from her hands holding it out for her to undo the string.

"Well?"

"It's…I hate myself for this." Gilraen mumbled as she eased one end of her bowstring. "Florian betrothed Sybille. Yesterday evening. And I…I should be happy for her. I _am _happy for her. I don't… begrudge her happiness. Only… I only wish there was a sheer drop of that happiness for me too. Is that evil of me?" She took the bow and turning around stood it against the rail carefully. "I think so. I hate myself for it. I hate myself. I just can't be as unconditionally happy for her as I should. She's betrothed, she's to be married. While I… I haven't even been kissed and… I'm just so sick of all this envy in me..."

_And now even you must think I'm a complete idiot and a childish little green eyed monster_, she finished in her head.

"It's not stupid" she heard him say and felt a fierce hand close around her upper arm, turning her back around to face its owner.

Gilraen gathered her strength with a sigh and looked up to meet the stern pair of gleaming dark eyes. She could hardly stand his gaze for a moment. She was ashamed of telling him all the feelings she was ashamed of, and of late she came to realize she generally couldn't stand his gaze for too long either. It was too deep, too piercing, too dark. He reached out and with a gentle movement, tilted up her chin.

"But it's also not the kind of problem that couldn't be easily remedied, is it?"

Gilraen gave a puzzled shrug and straightened her back with a small sigh.

"Yes… sure… it's not…"

He nodded, eyes shining with a fiery light and glanced behind. Turning back he took a step forward and before Gilraen could take one backward, his hand was on her cheek pulling her face to his. In an instant he was kissing her full on the mouth. Her eyes went wide in surprise but it took only a couple of seconds before she gave in and found her mouth open instinctively under the force of his lips and tongue. The world slowed down around her, it was only him and the sweet hot burning feeling of his kiss.

She didn't know how long it lasted. It could have been years as well as seconds before he let go of her lips so she had the chance to gasp for air once again. He exhaled and gave her a small smile.

"There. You've been kissed now."

"Yes" Gilraen agreed with the unquestionable fact.

"And I finally had an excuse to do this…" his voice gave away how uncertain he was about what he did. She was still the Princess of Gondor, after all.

"I… I should get going. Before someone finds us here." She said utterly lost at what she was supposed to say.

"Yes" He nodded and stepped sideways to let her pass.

Gilraen closed her eyes as she walked past the man and made herself go for the door biting her lower lip, half in distress, half smiling at the last taste of his mouth still lingering on hers.

"Gilraen!"

She turned around.

"Congratulations to your sister" he said with a wicked curl of his lips.

An incredulous smile spread across her face as she shook her head at him and turned to take her leave.

Once on her face, Gilraen's smile seemed unable to fade away. It was wrong, so wrong. And yet so good. All those feelings she never admitted to have for him erupted and filled her with the same warm and burning sensation his kiss had evoked. She recalled the first time they met as she walked back to the Citadel; so official it was back then. Later it got more friendly and after that more than friendly. Yet all along it was just a joke, all the flirting was but a mutual joke they shared and laughed at. At least that was what she told herself every time her knees went weak when he was talking to her. She never thought he'd _do _anything, though – talking was as far as they ever went, because talking was safe.

She never realized she walked all the way back to her room, only when her handmaid asked if she wished to have a bath. Gilraen nodded, her mother would expect her fresh and clean and beautiful for supper, besides taking a bath and talking with her maid would draw her attention from wondering about what will happen the next time she sees him.

He was official. Beyond comprehension. Gilraen stressed for three days about what he'll say or what he'll do and finally guessed that everything would go as nothing had happened. She proved to be wrong. This was worse. Everything went as if they had just met. She kept telling herself for three days not to expect anything. And she didn't. But why couldn't they stay friendly at least? She'd gladly force herself to forget about his kiss, if only he talked to her as before.

"Shall we say that was it for today?" the man turned to her.

"Yes, it was pretty much enough" she nodded and he took the bow from her hands.

Gilraen watched as he made his way for the rail to undo the string and put the bow aside. Even his _back _looked attractive clad in dark boiled leather. She closed her eyes and tried to shake off the thought.

"And" he started as he messed with the bows by the rail. "is Your Highness still in an ill mood or did I manage to give some comfort last time?" he turned his head toward her with a small smirk.

"Oh, you did, without a doubt…" the sudden twist of the scenario took Gilraen slightly aback.

"Good. Though I would most happily ease your sadness again, I'm afraid it'd bring trouble for both of us. What do you think?" Once again he was serious. And sullen.

"That you are right" Gilraen said quickly. She knew it was just like he said and didn't want him to think she expected anything. Too much trouble it'd bring for both of them.

"You are still sad." He walked over to her. "Are you still sad because of your sister?"

"I wasn't _sad _because of my sister. I was childish, envious and awful." She wasn't _sad _because of Sybille. She was glad her sister was happy. She was sad because _she_ wasn't.

"You aren't awful. Or childish, or envious. You are simply sad…" he paused and buried his piercing black gaze into her pale blue eyes. "Are you sad because of me?"

Gilraen had no idea what to say to that.

"I don't like it when you are sad" he lifted her chin. "Don't be sad."

"I won't…"

"Good…" he said drawing dangerously close to her, eyes shining with heat.

She tried. She tried so hard to turn away her head. She tried so hard to step back or push him away or say something or spun around and run. But she couldn't. She just stood there and welcomed his lips as they brushed against hers, first lightly and instinctively than deeper and fiercer full of hunger and passion. She kissed him back never caring to breathe, to think, just kissed him melting away as their tongues entwined. He was pulling her closer with a firm grip on her upper arm and with a gentle hand cupping her cheek and neck. Dizzy of the sweet and burning dance of their lips she reached for his face brushing her trembling fingers against his skin.

"Sweetest" He broke the kiss as swiftly as he started it. "We can't be seen like this."

"No. I know" Gilraen breathed taking a step backward looking at him helplessly.

His stern features were heavy with effort as he formed the words and took his own step backward.

"You must go now. We'll see each other on Wednesday."

"I'm going" she nodded and turned to leave as hasty as she could before they ended up in another kiss - and before someone saw them.

She fled back to the Citadel and tried to gather her thoughts. So he didn't just comfort her last time in his odd way, he clearly… what? Liked her? Wanted her? Whichever… it gave her a queer feeling of security. Someone liked her too. Someone, for who she didn't have to courtesy and giggle and dance and coquette and… behave like Sybille. And he was so… amazing. That was the right word. He was strong and fierce, stern and gentle, joyful and serious, ice and fire.

She shook her head to get rid of all the thoughts about the man and smoothed her skirt as she made her way for her chambers.

"Gilraen!" someone jumped up beside her with a loud thump.

"Aryana! You scared me" she turned to face her sister after her heart resumed beating.

Her sister made a face, "I'm bored."

"Really? I'm not."

"What are you doing?"

"Going to learn for tomorrow's lessons" she lied mechanically.

"Lessons are boring. Let's do something!"

Gilraen sighed. "Like what?"

"I thought about sneaking into the kitchen and dripping mud into the raspberry cakes they're making for Mother."

"Wait a moment. You don't want me to learn, but to go with you and spoil Mother's cakes _on purpose_?"

"Well, Sybille or Brianneth are not like to join me and I'm punished, so can't leave the palace." Aryana shrugged.

"What have you done now?"

"I'd have had a dancing lesson, but I skipped and went playing instead and… sorta ruined my nice silken dress" she said the last words with mocking scorn.

"Refusing to dance with some chivalrous little lordling on your lesson, huh? Does not befit a royal princess" Gilraen taunted her grinning.

"Shut up! Will you come or not?"

"Hear my suggestion. Why don't we go to the kitchens to get us some pie and leave Mother's cakes alone? We could eat it in your room on the bed and dirt the rushes _and _the carpet. That'd not please Mother either,but it wouldn't make her _so_ wroth to confine you into the palace for another day but, as we both know, the cakes would."

"Wow. You're the only clever sister I have. Okay, let's leave the cakes alone…" Aryana gave in with a grimace.

Gilraen spent the next two hours in the kitchens and in Aryana's room eating the plum pie they got and even helped to make. The kitchen servants were really nice people and even though they knew perfectly well how the Queen loathed when a princess would linger in the kitchens, they always welcomed them for some sneaky snack. Aryana told her about a puppy she found and wanted to keep and some funny story a friend told her about the new Master of Treasury Lord Ceoron. Gilraen didn't dare to ask who this friend was telling her sister a story about the Master of Treasury getting stuck in his privy at night.

After the pie was gone and Aryana decided to go to the gardens, she made her way back to her own chambers to take a bath and change for the supper. Her father always had some guest for supper. A high lord or an old friend, an envoy from far away or Florian and his parents.

"Where have you _been_?" snapped Sybille's indignant voice.

"With Aryana."

"Aryana…heavens, you saw what she made of her dress? It was such a fine work, I even offered to make her hair to match the dress if she washed it. All she did was make those faces at me... Lord Faramir and Lady Eowyn will be with us for supper and the Lord Ceoron too. I'm told he has a son, eighteen years old, lean and handsome…" she trailed off giggling.

Somebody, son of Lord Stuck-In-His-Privy. _What a match_, Gilraen thought with a small chuckle which Sybille took as a sign of excitement, fortunately.

"I asked Mother if Florian could come too, but she said it'd not be courteous to treat him as a member of the royal family just yet. But soon enough he'll be. Father said that we'd be wedded next spring. Maybe on our eighteenth birthday. Though Father said it'd be better afterward, I think it'd be nice on that very day, wouldn't it?"

"It would, certainly" Gilraen gave her a polite smile. Sybille was sweet being in love with Florian, but Gilraen could hardly comprehend _how_ she could talk so much.

An hour later when she was even familiar with the pattern of the lace fringing on Sybille's future wedding gown, they finally made their way down to the dining hall. The Master of Treasury greeted them as befit and introduced his son to them. Sybille greeted him sweetly and dropped a comment about how she was already betrothed. For the rest of the evening Gilraen was left to curse her sister in her thoughts since, as the result of Sybille's courtesy, the boy's entire attention turned to her. He was a nice boy, rather skinny than lean, rather childishly snug than handsome. They talked about Minas Tirith a bit and then he started asking questions about her. Her favorite flower, her favorite dessert, her favorite color, her favorite book, her favorite song. Gilraen tried to ask him similar things, favorite dish, favorite art of fighting, whatever favorite things a boy or young man of his age might have. But he always gave her odd looks and returned to questioning her, so she spent the evening listing things like red rose, truffles, emerald green, _101 Stories From The Middle-East_, _On Stranger Tides_ and more. By the time the supper came to an end, she was sick and tired of the boy and his questions.

"How was he supposed to please you, if he doesn't know you? You should be more open" Sybille rolled her eyes when Gilraen gave a comment on how tiring the boy was.

"Will he know me if I tell him my favorite fruit is red grape?"

"Don't be silly, Gilraen, you should be happy that he was not the kind of young man, who keeps talking about himself instead of being interested in you." Her mother put in with a smile.

_Some men have the ways of charming a girl without asking her eighty-four bloody questions about her favorite things in life_, Gilraen thought, but forced herself to nod anyways.

That night Gilraen was happy to go to bed and be rid of questions, raspberry cakes and advice, and after the stuck-in-the-privy son she didn't even want to resist the dreams she knew would come. At first she tried to keep him out of her dreams, but the plan ended with little success and less sleep. This time she wouldn't mind seeing his face as she closed her eyes and hearing his voice talking of things having nothing to do with favorites as she drifted into a sweet dream.

* * *

Yay. That was Chapter 1. Chapter 2 - _Just Another Manic Monday_ (who else loves The Bangles?) is coming up tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 2 - Just Another Manic Monday

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Last Chapter we followed (and will follow, for many more chapters) Aragorn's daughter Gilraen, who had her first kiss finally (Sybille was like 12 or 13 when she had her first kiss - that's not written anywhere, I'm just bombarding you with more infos, haha). But who is the mystery guy?

(And I cheated again, because I didn't wait a whole day to update. But there are so many chapters and it'll take like a month to post this thing if I keep to the one chapter a day plan.) And I don't own the title, The Bangles does.

* * *

**JUST ANOTHER MANIC MONDAY**

Her entrails were tied into a maddening knot since her eyes flung open in the morning, Gilraen made her way down the Sixth Street, creatively named main street of the sixth level snaking down to the gate, the stables and the thrice damned practice hall. She felt stupid, limbs and torso stiff and heavy as though she had stones laced under her gown, and yet light headed as young boy drinking his first flagon of wine. His fault. He made her feel this way. Gilraen gave a last effort to shrug off the sensation before she reached for the large rusty iron knockers of the thick oaken door. As she opened one wing the sound of clinging swords filled her ears at once. She slipped through the door and hoped to have closed it quickly enough in order to keep the cold out as much as it was possible at least.

"Hold it up! Hold that bloody shield up! HOLD IT!"

A boy about the age of twelve struggled to obey the clearly irritated command of his master, but failed as the strike landed on his shield brining it crashing down right onto his toes and he fell back squalling in pain.

"Oh, seven bleeding hells, it's your shield, your arm, your feet! _I _cannot control it instead of you! You must control, you must watch out for your own toes, your own arm _and_ your own bloody neck. You can chop that fancy painted thing into firewood. If you are unable to _hold_ the damn thing, it's not worth a piece of shit!" the scold came hard and loud and Gilraen saw the poor lad staggering to his feet with a red face.

"It's too heavy, my lord…" he mumbled.

"Heavy, is it? Men use a shield so it will suffer the blows, arrows and axes instead of them. You think a damned pillow from a whore's bed will provide that? That's light enough, I grant you… A shield is heavy as it needs to be to keep you safe."

"Yes, my lord. I... I'll try harder."

"I expect you to. We are finished."

Gilraen watched the scene from beside the door. The boy gathered his blunted sword and dragged his shield after him pulling it on the ground as he followed his master to the large barrel he used as table.

"What are you _doing_ to that poor thing?" he rounded on the lad, horrified and indignant at the sight. "Do you think it's a bleeding wheelbarrow to pull on the ground after yourself? Pay some respect to your armor, or else they won't pay any respect to your toes next time either… Your Highness, a moment of patience if you would." He inclined his head at Gilraen, and she nodded without a word.

The boy lifted his shield as much as he could and bowed in front of her muttering some courtesy before he turned after his master.

"Your next lesson is tomorrow at 9 o'clock" he informed the boy.

"M-my lord…I… it's not possible. I'm riding to Osgiliath with my lord father. He has some business and intends to take me along…I apologize…" he added as he saw the man's face darkening.

"Will Friday 12 o'clock suffice for your lordship then?" his tone was thick with tense.

"M-my lord… my mother's sister and husband are coming to the city—"

"Well then make it Monday at 5 in the morning, I don't believe you intend to have any business or guests then" he glared at the boy rolling his eyes.

The boy gaped at him, but never dared to object again. "Yes my lord. Monday at 5."

"Until then" was all he said and stepping to the door opened it meaningfully wide. The boy literally fled the hall and the man flung the wings shut in frustration with a loud thump and barred them.

Gilraen watched as he went back to the barrel and put down some marks in his accounts without a word.

"When will _you _have your next lesson?" the man grunted looking up.

"Whenever is fine" she said quickly.

He rolled an eye at her too, but its black depths shone with mirth this time, rather than irritation. "Everything is always fine for you, sweet princess, just say something."

"Right, well… Friday 12 o'clock would be perfect for me."

He jerked his head darkly and put down some more notes into his book.

"This boy gets on my nerves…"

"_Everybody_ gets on your nerves" Gilraen pointed out with a small smile.

"You don't" he grinned up at her.

"Ah, yes. I don't. What harm has he done you?"

"He's _stupid_. And can't concentrate. He complains about everything, this is heavy, this is hard, this is painful. Swordfight is _supposed _to be hard and painful otherwise you'll never learn it. _He _never will, I grant you that. Waste of my time, he is."

"No one can be perfect." Gilraen soothed him.

"No, but neither so imperfect!"

The remark made her laugh.

"I thought we'd ride out today and try shooting an arrow from horseback…" he closed his book and straightened.

"_From horseback_? I can't fly an arrow from my own two feet properly!"

"No need to worry, this cursed wind even blows the squirrel shit out of the ents of Fangorn, we're going nowhere…" he grimaced and Gilraen laughed again.

"You are really into these phrases with ents" she observed shaking her head.

"I picked them up during the ring war. I only had the thought to ride out because sitting a horse would keep a safe distance between us, which is otherwise clearly problematic to maintain…" he took a step toward her.

She didn't move. For a moment. Then, an invisible force pushed her one step forward too.

"So… what will we do if not ride out? Work the bow again? The simple way, without a horse?" her voice grew faint.

"Mostly. Shoot arrows from your own two sweet feet…" his hands found her arms and pulled her closer.

"Shall I go and get a bow?" Gilraen felt herself choking on the words.

"I think there's no need for one just now" his voice was hoarse with lust and sent shivers down her spine. And with one hand on her back, the other on her upper arm, he pulled her into a deep kiss.

Gilraen's arms snaked up along his board chest and coiled around his neck as they kissed, while his hands explored her arms, shoulders, back and waist. By the time they first broke off, she was trembling in his strong embrace pressed up against his body gasping for air and hungry to reach up to his lips once again. He unfastened her cloak and let his hands venture along the curves of her hips, while her own fingers caressed his cheeks and neck. She traced down his spine surrounded by stocks of strong muscles tactile even through thick layers of leather.

His fingers found her golden locks and entwined into them, while another hand ran up her fluttering belly to tighten around one soft breast through the satin and velvet layers of her dress and bodice. Gilraen gasped into his mouth at his touch which made him release her swollen lips and ply his kisses along her jaw, all the way down the column of her neck. She was losing all her wits by then, blinded by love and lust she pulled his face back to her mouth and kissed him deep and intense. His hands found the laces of her bodice and worked to reveal more skin of her ivory cleavage, only to turn it red with a shower of hungry, savage kisses.

The whole world was spinning around Gilraen, desire made her dizzy and all she could do against it was to clutch even harder on his sleeves, to pull herself even closer to him, knowing he'd hold her steady. Her whole body ached for him, with all its parts she never knew could ache. His touch, his scent, his very masculinity intimidated her, the world ceased existing, it was only his lips and hands and arms. She faintly sensed as they edged away from the centerline of the hall, and recalled somewhere in the back of her mind straw fringing the walls, huge bales to keep the place as warm as possible. It wasn't cold though. Gilraen mused at how hot she felt in his embrace for a moment, before a firm grip on her hips swept all thoughts away and she was once again pressed up against his body, his hard erection darting into her belly through leather and satin.

"Do you really want this, sweetest?" he breathed as he broke their kiss.

"Why, is there turning back?" panted Gilraen, her heart pounding against her chest.

"Ah… if you turn and run away right now…" he chuckled.

If only she could.

"Has there been a single time when could I run away from you?"

He kissed her. "But… you'd deserve better than this. Lose your maidenhood on a pile of straw?"

Saying it made it real. That was just what was about to happen, she realized… And she didn't care. She didn't care how, or why, or to what ends. She didn't care about anything. And she found not caring was the most glorious and happy feeling in the world. She wanted him. She wanted him too much to start caring about the consequences. It felt too good not to care about anything for the first time in her close seventeen years in this world.

"What'd be better than this?"

"Nothing" a wide grin spread across his face as he groaned the answer into her neck in a husky voice.

He gently lowered her onto the straw and Gilraen took his face in her palms to pull him down into a fond kiss. Balancing himself over her with one hand, his other hand made its way up and down her body, squeezing, touching, caressing. His grip finally settled on her skirts pulling them high up to her waist and whilst he leaned forth for another kiss he drew up her knees and to Gilraen's surprise she felt them open instinctively under his touch. That just brought another wicked smile to his lips as he fondled the soft warm flesh of her thighs and set down to unlace her underwear. His hands felt so hard and so exquisitely gentle at the same time.

Gilraen couldn't help but smile at the sight of her own knees and skirts that completely shielded the sight of _him_. His hands brushed warm and tender against her skin and the way he seemed helpless with the laces was nothing but adorably amusing.

"_What_ are you doing?" she asked in mirth after a moment.

"What do you think? Is it some royal rule, to make a princess so hard to undress?"

"I'd not be surprised" she gave a soft chuckle and reached down to guide his hand to the fitting strings.

"Ah! That's it…" he murmured as he peeled the silk off of her.

He was back kissing her in a second with one arm still under her skirt. By the time he got to unlace his breeches he was so aroused his hands were almost shaking with lust. It took long seconds to do so, so long that sanity was finding Gilraen again.

"Will it hurt?" she heard herself ask. He was a large man, after all and she suddenly found her own body surprisingly small under his.

He looked up at her with a flicker of worry in his eyes.

"Yes. Though I've never been with a man, so who knows?" he added with a smile. "It won't hurt for long. I'll do it quick. I'll take care of you." He assured her.

She knew he would. She didn't doubt that for a second.

He slowly moved atop her positioning himself between her knees and Gilraen's heart pounded like a hammer trying to beat its way out of her chest when she felt him against her inner thighs. He kissed her and the next moment he was inside her. Gilraen flinched and a small cry of pain escaped her lips at the sharp ripping pain flooding her pelvish.

"Shhhhh" she heard the man's deep soothing voice as he gently pulled out. She winced in pain again.

But it was as he promised. It didn't hurt for long, pain was replaced by feelings she had never known before. Being whole, being alive, trusting and loving, burning away with heat, exploding with bliss...

Once they were able to catch a breath again he rolled off to her right side, panting heavily. They lay silently as Gilraen slowly regained her wits and controlled her breathing into a pace nearing normal.

"Gilraen…" he called.

She turned her head to look into his dark gaze, her lips curling into a content smile.

"I'm not particularly inexperienced, as you know, but this was beyond comparison. I tell you, girl, you are the most amazing woman brought into this world." And with that he pushed himself up on one elbow and leaned in to give her a sweet and long kiss. "How was it, sweetest? Did I make it good for you?" he asked stroking away a strand of golden hair.

"Oh, more than good. It was… there are no words for how good it was" she breathed, tired and happy. Instead of searching for words she cupped his shaven head and pulled him into another kiss drowning into the feel of his trimmed circle beard rubbing against her skin. He broke away smiling at her fondly and stroking her cheeks.

"What's the judgment, my sweet princess, what'd have been better than this?"

"Nothing" she laughed quoting his previous reply.

"An answer to my liking, that is" he grinned and lying back on his back laced his breeches and sat up. "I tried not to ruin your dress, but, well…then I had other concerns…" he trailed off with a grin and a cock of his left eye.

Gilraen sat up too and looked down on herself.

"Aoh."

She found her underwear in the straw and wiped a trickle of blood of her lower parts. At least the outer velvet layer of her dark blue dress came through dry and unstained. She put aside the bloody piece of silk and pulled back down her skirts musing at the stupid feeling of the lack of underwear beneath them.

"Are you all right?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm all right" Gilraen said with an incredulous smile and took his hands to help her to her feet. She smoothed her skirts and laced up her bodice.

"How did you do _that _so quickly?" she heard him ask in disbelief.

She looked up at him laughing. "It's something _bloody easy_, you know" she said with a playful twinkle.

"Ah… very funny" he grabbed her by the waist and planted a kiss on her lips.

"Why, Torundir, that's what I'm always told too. _We're going to learn something bloody easy today, my sweet_." She teased laughing.

"I do believe each and every thing I taught you was a deal easier than undoing that dress of yours, _my sweet_." He glared at her smiling.

"_I_ don't. I must get going... I wouldn't wish to come across any member of my family before I get a bath and clean clothes."

"Yes…sure. Go." He kissed her again and he removed a piece of straw from her hair holding it up with a smirk.

"Oh. Thank you," chuckled Gilraen and checked her hair for other pieces.

Torundir brought her cloak and fastened it about her shoulder never missing to plant another kiss on her lips.

"You are amazing, sweetheart, did I tell you that?"

"You did. So are you... Thank you…" she didn't know what else to say, instead she hugged him and kissed him again. He held her for a moment smiling at her tenderly.

"Go now. No. Wait. Gilraen, if this… if anyone should learn about this—"

"That would mean a rather ugly end of us, I'm well aware."

"Yes. That's right. A rather bloody and headless end of _me_." He added with a chuckle. "I wouldn't say it wasn't worth it, but I like living. Especially after this past hour."

Gilraen burst out laughing. "Am I worth as much as your head? I never knew" she shook her head.

"It's time you learned you are worth far more than you think" the man announced with a nod and shook his head incredulously.

"I haven't said anybody a word about anything that passed between us, no one will know from me."

"Nor from me." He kissed her one last time. "I expect your highness on Friday at 12, before we forget." He grinned at her.

"Oh... Yes, my lord, by all means." She replied holding back a smile and headed for the door.

* * *

Yeah... the thing is rated M for a reason. I struggled SO hard to edit this... And I can honestly say I prefer my R rated original version... Whatever.

So please tell me what you think in a review or PM or anything, I'd so love to know if you liked it or not, your thoughts and impressions and anything at!

Chapter 3 - A Long Way Down is coming up tomorrow (really tomorrow, because it's almost midnight now)


	6. Chapter 3 - A Long Way Down

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

The title is also the title of a Nick Horby book, though it's not a reference or anything, just sounds good to me... Nevertheless, I don't own the title, Nick Horby does.

* * *

A LONG WAY DOWN

Gilraen returned to the Citadel in bliss, praying she would have a relative and acquaintance-free route to her chambers in the palace. She needed a bath and a clean gown and some time alone to think, before she was ready to talk to people and act as though she's been flying arrows all afternoon.

Luckily enough, she made her way safely to her chamber and sent both handmaids off to prepare a bath for her. While they were away, she got out of her dress and threw it into the prickling flames of the hearth along with her bloodstained undershift and slipped into a nightshift to await her bath in. Even without the gown, she smelled of straw, sex and sin. The sweetest scents she ever knew. Her tub arrived and the maids set down to fill it up with hot steaming water. Only when the tub was full and she was about to climb in was that the maids asked Gilraen about her dress. The wind tore the skirts, the rest she sent to laundry while they were away. The lie came easier and more naturally than she thought.

She sank into the hot water and sent the maids away thanking them for their help. She relaxed in the tub and inhaled the sage and lavender scented steam. This was after all an incredibly stupid thing to do. Lying with Torundir. And yet, no matter how hard she tried to find it in her heart, she felt no regret about what happened. Surely this wasn't how the thing is supposed to happen, on one's wedding night, with silken pillows fringed with soft white lace, in a beautiful white silken night gown thread with gold and silver, embroidered with pearls, among a thousand rose petals and a hundred candles, with some beautiful blonde haired blue eyed gentle and chivalrous and loving young lord…

Gilraen still doubted _that_ was how it's supposed to happen, the whole scenario stank with Sybille's slobbery ideas. She could never picture herself in a situation like that; it all seemed queer and ill fitting, uncomfortable and unnatural. A cool stone hall, a pile of straw and a hard and demanding man twice her age were much more to _her _liking she found.

She thought about Torundir. Was he really the worst possible man to fall in love with? Would the whole business feel less sinful if he wasn't 16 years her senior? Probably not. Or if he wasn't her tutor or a member of her father's Officers' Council? Probably yes. But she was intimidated by him the way he was and never for a moment did she wish he was someone else. Not like he'd ever change for anybody's sake. And in fact he wasn't the worst man to fall in love with. He wasn't married, or a son of Harad, enemy of the realm, or brute, or anything like that. He was masculine to the core, hard and fierce to men, tender and kind to women (at least to her, and the rest didn't interest her), true and devoted to friends, dutiful and loyal to the realm. After all, he was pretty much the best man to fall in love with…

Gilraen closed her eyes and remembered their first meeting. It seemed ages ago. Starting her final year at the Academy she had been told that it was time she took Hunting lessons as everybody else had already done so. It was upon some unexplainable notion of her father's that young ladies of noble birth were taught to hunt. Lord Erandur, the high master of the Academy had told her to attend her first lesson held by some lord named Torundir that very afternoon. She remembered how she sought out the named room a good quarter of an hour before the lesson, she never liked being late. And so it happened that she'd been there by the time he arrived.

He looked so surprised to see her sitting by the long table in the room she even hesitated whether she had come to the right room at the right time.

"Did I come too early? Or this is not a Hunting lesson?" she asked.

"It is. But usually I'm the one to be here first…" he frowned wonderingly.

"You are Lord Torundir, right, my lord?"

"Aye. And you are Princess Gilraen."

She never knew whether that was a question or not, so replied anyways. "Yes."

"Your Highness is quite early. And we'll not start until everybody is here, and most of everybody is usually late." He unloaded a leather case and unrolled a map messing about the end of the table.

"I know, I just didn't want to be late from the first lesson…" Gilraen replied.

"The rest of the ladies would do well following Your Highness' example."

That was unbearably uncomfortable, highnessing her with every word. "My lord… may I ask you, if you would please not address me Your Highness, it's… implying that I'm above the others."

"You _are _above the others."

"Yes, but… being addressed as such in front of other ladies coming here makes me uncomfortable. This is a lesson and I am their equal here."

He raised his black eyebrows high and a curious light shone up in his eyes as he measured her. "What would _Your Highness_ wish to be called then?"

"Just simply my name would be best if possible, my lord"

"Not possible. I don't call any of my other lady students by their names either, it's implying they are below me or to my liking. And they are neither, believe me."

All Gilraen could do was not burst out laughing. "Whatever you call them, my lord, will suffice for me too, then."

"That's Lady This and That or My lady This and That, or some other formation of lady."

And so from then on he went on calling her My Lady or Milady or My Princess or Princess Gilraen during that first lesson. He told them (after the rest of the girls arrived) he was supposed to introduce them into the art of hunting, but there was no art about hunting, it was riding, talking, drinking and killing, so he wouldn't go into the trouble. All the girls stared as if he had gone mad or had been about to kill them too, while Gilraen could hardly restrain her laughter (half at his words and half at the girls' reaction).

Instead he went into the trouble of telling them about what they were expected to learn. Hawking, riding (properly, not in the sleazy noblewoman way), shooting an arrow (as much as they could), some background knowledge of game (so they'd have something to talk of with their lord companions). Then he told stories of his hunting excursions, the battles he fought in, the ring war, though only eleven he was during the siege of Minas Tirith. All the stories interesting and exciting in their own way filled with sarcastic humour and Gilraen found the time flying by as he spoke.

At the end of the lessons he would give them work to do at home, some books to read, some things to study, some places to draw a map of or something to write. Gilraen remembered their third lesson when he gave them a list of poisonous berries and plants of the woods. They had to find a drawing of the plants, search for and write down the symptoms each caused and learn the whole thing.

"Like all by heart? Line after line?" one girl of Gilraen's learning group asked in confused alarm hearing the task for next week.

"You don't have to learn it by heart like it was a poem or a song" Gilraen explained her, literally getting a headache from the stupidity of the question. "Just know the essence so you won't eat a poisonous berry on a hunting trip."

Torundir nodded and gave the girl a pitiful look. "Now what? You ladies are the standard and we're too clever?" he gestured at Gilraen and himself. "Or we're the standard and you too stupid?" he added with a chuckle and exchanged a knowing smile with Gilraen.

She remembered the first practice lesson she had, during which he took up the habit of calling her whatever came to his mind from Your Highness, to Lady Princess through every combination of the words _lady, princess, highness_ and _Gilraen_. He taught her hawking, told her hunting stories about game, about clumsy lords, about a legend of some barbarian who once got so drunk he lay with a she-bear. She laughed and did her best to learn all the things he showed her. On the next lessons he asked her what it was like to be a princess.

"It's… everybody thinks it so great to be a princess."

"And it's not?" he raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Well, I don't say I'm complaining. Sometimes it feels really nice to wear a magnificent dress and sit on the dais with every eye upon you, but no life is perfect. And that includes the lives of princesses, too."

After a few lessons he asked her how she liked their lessons.

"Oh, they are really enjoyable. I am fond of your stories and unique conclusions."

"Unique conclusions?" he stared at her.

"Well what you said about the art of hunting on the first lesson. That there's no such thing."

"Why, do you think there is? Men hunt for two reasons: one is for food, the other for the joy of killing. I don't say that's bad, I do adore hunting myself, every men needs a good killing every once in a while. I just don't see why the clever like to call it art."

"I thought the art was…the process of pursuing the prey, or that sort"

That made him chuckle. "You are sweet, my princess. Pursuing the prey is a nice way to put it. That's no art either, it's lust. When men hunt, they lust for blood. When they become suitors, they lust for women. And they very well do so. Only, why call it art instead of what it is, lust?"

"That's the unique conclusion I meant. They lust for women… if only they did. Mostly it's for money or power…"

"Now _that's _why I never married." He said with a grimace.

"You never married?"

"Do I look married to you, Your Ladiness? No. I don't intend to give any ambitious wives money and power, as much as I have at least, which is just enough for me not to want more from their dowry. But don't try to tell me now Princess Gilraen has no men to court her."

"Most people want to court my sister. She's more for it. Those she doesn't like come after me. And there's no problem with that, only… it's not me they want, possibly not even my sister, just _any _daughter of the _king_."

"Why do they want to court your sister? I had no more interaction with her than Good day Your Highness, but one sees things and – forgive the insolence – you are three times your sister. In every possible field, wits and beauty and nature."

"_Beauty_? We are _twins_, you know that? We look exactly the _same_. How could I be three times her beauty?" Gilraen blurted glaring at him.

"So why do men want to court her?" he repeated the question, his head cocked up.

"I can feel there's a trap, but let's see. She's more talkative, more cheerful, kinder, prettier—"

"_Prettier_? I thought you looked exactly the same." He cut her across with a wicked grin.

"Ah, there it was" she shook her head smiling.

"Anyway, most women are too talkative and your sister's talking will give a headache to those suitors in two months after wedding her. Women like you make the invaluable wives, who know how to be quiet. Besides, you don't look the same, personality shows through the skin, you know, milady."

She didn't say anything to that.

A week later Torundir concluded she rode worse than a she-ent. She didn't know whether to laugh or blush at that. And so he set down to teaching her riding properly. For two weeks the lessons consisted of "Stop clinging on the reins!", "Kick her forward, damn it, it's a horse of 1000 pounds, not a kitten!" and "Sit down in that bloody saddle, stick your pretty hips into it, stop bouncing". One time she had her lesson late in the afternoon and with her mother's afternoon tea dragging on for ages, she was forced to go straight to the stables when it finally ended. The lack of time to change paid off the moment she stepped out of the palace huddled in her gown freezing to the bone in her soft, low cut gown. Due to the cold Torundir decided to stay in the roofed backyard of the stables where horse masters trained foals and little children to ride.

"Aren't you cold?" he asked her as she mounted her chestnut mare.

"Oh, I am" she nodded puzzled at the question. "I just didn't have time to change..."

"Ah. I'm only asking because it's one thing that your dress makes _me _hot, but I doubt that cut has the same effect on you."

Gilraen gaped at the comment in stunned mirth. By the end of the week though, she was growing accustomed to such talk, as Torundir didn't seem to give a rest to his flirty comments.

"I hear there'll be some feast for the king of Rohan." He greeted her a week later.

"Yes. Plenty of food, plenty of music, plenty of dance, you know how it goes."

"Aye. It's said his whole court will come. One of his Captains of Guard wants to betroth his son to Beregond's daughter..."

"Really? Maybe she'll have luck with him."

"Who will Your Highness have luck with?" he pressed on with a wink.

"Prince Elfwine is coming too, so hopefully not with him."

"Why?"

"Becausehe's spoilt and full of himself, he has always been."

"That's true enough… But surely there are dozens of other young lordlings who would give a hand to marry a princess, and another couple dozens would give a hand only to dance with you."

"Yes…but all of them would give two hands to marry my sister." When Torundir raised an eyebrow she went on. "I can't behave, you know, I'm cold and rude to all _lordlings_ and Elfwine and Elboron and every suitor, they tell me."

"_You_ are cold? You are the sweetest thing that was ever made into a woman on Arda." Gilraen gave a bitter chuckle at that. "Anyway, all these feasts and balls are part of betrothal rituals, sparing our noble boys the _fight _for a woman. That's why they are so green they shit grass; that's why they are so boring they can't flirt a girl off her feet."

"I believe you have no such problems, my lord, do you?" Gilraen asked with a small grin.

"No, my sweet princess, gladly, I never had such problems." His lips curled into a wicked smirk. "I understand you are bored with them. When my sister was your age, we _expected_ her to refuse such boys. I was more a man than her suitors, though years younger than them."

"Your sister was lucky." Gilraen laughed shaking her head in disbelief.

"Aye, but she danced with them anyway, just as you will. Huh, these are the times when I rue I'm not at least a decade younger… you could dance with _me _then, would you not?"

She looked up at him and her lips curled into a smile. "I would."

On the following lessons Gilraen found herself entering the spirit of their flirty jokes and she told about the worst young lords she met at the feast. Torundir kept going on about how better she'd be off if he was ten years younger and made comments about each and every dress she wore. And he took up new styles to address her. Every time they were getting lost in their half jape, half serious game of words, he would start calling her a certain formation of the word _sweet_, ranging from _sweetling_ to _sweet princess_ through _sweetest_.

About a week before that ominous lesson which ended with their kiss, she was late from their archery practice.

"I'm so sorry, I know you hate when people are late."

"That's fine, it wasn't more than a few minutes and you are always punctual" he murmured never taking his eyes off the book he was writing in. "Please take a bow and we'll start right off. You find them…" he trailed off as he looked up at her, his mouth opening and closing. "Wow." Not even trying to conceal what he was doing, his eyes swept over her from tip to toe, once, twice, thrice. "Is there a particular reason that you look so bloody stunning, or you just wanted to make my day?"

"My father had Lord Hermond and his son for breakfast." She blushed.

"The lucky bastard… these low necks are killing me…"

"What should I wear to stop your suffering?" she asked shaking her head in amusement.

"Nothing, if you would." He blurted at once and her eyes widened in surprise. "Ah, how will I get this thought out of my head now…?" he laughed burying his head into his hands.

Gilraen leant back against the tub laughing at the memory and with a sigh sat up in the water already growing cold. And now comes going Aryana style and donning servants' cloths to sneak down to the first level to get moon tea from the market.

* * *

You see, I told you so. Moon tea is owned by George R.R. Martin.

Again, I'd be happy to read any reviews or answer to any questions :) Chapter 4 - Lost Lesson is coming up... erm... when I'll have an urge to update.


	7. Chapter 4 - Lost Lesson

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

So update again, because I'm a freak and I have a psychic need to update often.

* * *

**LOST LESSON**

"Good day Your Highness!" Torundir greeted her with a grin from the door.

"Good day, my lord" Gilraen inclined her head and sucked back a chuckle as they walked into the hall and Torundir closed the doors behind them.

"And how is Your Highness?" he pulled her into his arms.

"Very well, my lord"

"I hope Your Highness… does not rue anything that happened the other day?"

"No" she shook her head looking into his eyes.

"Maybe you should, though I can't say I'm not happy that you don't."

His arms coiled around her waist and hers around his neck. He kissed her deeply and long.

"Do you? Regret it?" Gilraen asked when they broke apart.

"How could anyone regret tasting you? It only makes me want more" Torundir murmured into her neck and kissed her again.

Gilraen pushed him away almost instantly.

"What was that?" she looked at him dumbstruck.

"Footsteps... Pick up that bow" he took a step backward taking a deep breath and threw his head back in frustration.

She did as he told and in two minutes the doors opened and one of Torundir's fellow officers Lord Finduras appeared.

"Pardons for intruding, my lord…" he stepped in and noticed Gilraen standing 20 yards from the target with bow in her hand looking as surprised and as innocent as she could having lost her innocence just two days ago. "Your Highness, I beg your pardon for intruding your lesson." He said bowing his head and Gilraen inclined hers smiling.

"Not a problem my lord." She said and saw Torundir rolling his eyes in disagreement from the corner of her eyes.

Finduras turned back to Torundir and went on. "A council is being assembled, your presence is required."

"_Now_?"

"I was rather surprised myself. I don't know of the reason."

"All right.… Your Highness must forgive me, duty calls and I must attend. Will it suffice you, my princess, if we postpone the lesson till Tuesday 1 o'clock?"

"Of course, my lord, it's just fine." Gilraen heard herself say stunned. Was he really going to leave with Finduras now…? She was surprised how disappointed she was.

"I beg Your Highness' forgiveness." Torundir said again and she suddenly realized she was expected to leave with the two men.

They made for the door and Finduras apologized again for interrupting her lesson with the news and the two men left for the Council Hall discussing what matter of so sudden urgency must be at hand.

Gilraen walked back to the Citadel and wondered what she'd do with the sudden amount of free time. As usually, the matter didn't have to wait too long to be settled.

"Gilraen!" Sybille was waving at her from the foregarden of the Academy in her silvery cloak.

"You have no lessons?" Gilraen asked as she walked up to her.

"No, I was supposed to have a flute lesson, but it's postponed, it's so awful, I so love the flute and I'm finally getting good."

"Pity. My lesson was postponed too."

"Yes, I thought so. Guess what, now! I have the greatest news, I'm so happy." She smiled at her widely, perfect white teeth shining in the sunlight.

"What's the greatest news?" Gilraen asked warmly. Sybille was really sweet when she was excited about something, though at times like this she talked even more than usual.

"We are going to have a feast!"

Not again, Gilraen thought closing her eyes for a brief second.

"Florian's parents are going to feast us!"

"Us? Us who?"

"Us! Me, you, Eldarion, Mother, Father, Brianneth, Aryana, silly. On the occasion of our betrothal! They proposed the idea to Mother, because they want to do us a courtesy, because they feel they must do something, after all their son will be member of the royal family. Florian's mother said that. So they'll feast us at their home, because Mother accepted her proposition!"

"Ah, I see, wow, that's great. Have you ever been to Florian's home yet?"

"I have, but not for a feast, not with his whole family! I am going to meet them, after all they are going to be my family soon! Imagine this, everybody will be there, Lady Doriel said that his elder son would be present too, you know, Lord Barahin."

Gilraen knew perfectly well who Lord Barahin was.

"And his wife will be there too, Lady Ëlyel, do you know her too? I have only met her briefly, but she's a lovely lady. She's 22 and pretty, I'm sure she'll be a wonderful sister-in-law and we'll be so good friends."

"They have a little girl, right? Lord Barahin and his wife." Gilraen faintly recalled a story about Lord Barahin's daughter, whose finger was once bitten by a pony she was so fond of while feeding him carrots. That was one of Torundir's favorite _Horses are no fluffy kittens, so no need to be gentle with them _stories.

"Yes, she is very little though, three years old or so, I don't know her name... So, what do you think I should wear? I told Mother I need a new dress, but I can't think of what sort would fit"

"I don't know, Sybille, you are the expert on dresses. Whatever you wear, you'll be beautiful."

"No. I must be radiant. Not just beautiful. Florian's family must love me. I hope they will!"

"You are the princess of Gondor, _how _could they not love you?"

"I'm so excited, I can't wait to meet Florian's family. The feast will be on Monday…oh, there's he! Eldarion!" Sybille called beaconing.

Their brother was clad in thick dark velvet which gave him a very regal look and he was wearing his chain of rank.

"What is it, Sybille?" he raised an eyebrow as he reached them.

"Have you heard the news?"

"New news? Or the one about the dead envoy and the one about Darling-Sweetest-Beloved-Florian's parents' feast, because I have heard both at least four times."

"What dead envoy? That's why the Council meeting?" Gilraen looked at him.

"Yes, the envoy we sent to Harad died. Father just received a message. The circumstances are unclear and uncertain, we don't know any details, but it's… well a little unsettling, that's why the meeting, yes."

"You knew?" Sybille looked positively disappointed that she couldn't tell the story again.

"But the envoy's death, that doesn't mean—"

"It doesn't mean anything until we know what happened, or at least get an idea of it. You two just keep plotting on how to impress our darling-sweet-beloved on his feast" Eldarion grinned at Sybille.

"Oh, stop that! You always mock him. And me. You always mock us, but sooner than you'd know, you'll fall in love too and learn not to mock true love!" Sybille scolded him positively dizzy with all the pink clouds floating in her head.

"Dearest sister, I have loved many a dozen times, but no love has ever made me lose my taste for mocking you two" Eldarion taunted Sybille with a theatrical smile.

"You have? I have never met any young lady you loved!" Sybille mused and Gilraen felt like banging her head against the ground at her sister's naivety.

Eldarion roared with laughter and excusing himself left for the council hall.

"What is he always laughing at?" Sybille shook her head and took Gilraen by the arm. "Let's go back to the palace, it's still quite cold outside and I want to plan so many things. I think we should ask Mother about what to wear. Oh, have I told you already? When I met Florian yesterday, he told me he couldn't meet me today, because he was going to have a gift made for me!"

"Really, how kind of him" Gilraen found herself tiring faster and faster of the Florian topic with every week ever since he started courting Sybille. Her sister went on musing about what the gift could be and what Florian's family will be like, while Gilraen tried to remember Lord Barahin's daughter's name. It really annoyed her when she forgot somebody's name. That was one thing she agreed with from the many principals of the life of princesses. It was no fit to forget somebody's name, even if it's just a little girl.

Back in the Palace they joined their Mother for her usual afternoon tea which she shared with Lady Éowyn and Lady Volriel, the wife of the Lord Commander of the Royal Fleet, and a dear friend of the queen. As usually the tea went on for a lifetime and Gilraen felt like writing Fifth Age after she finally retired to her bedchamber having discussed Sybille's dress for the feast, Florian as a match, heavy Gondorian courses, some new poet and tips on playing the flute three hours long. She tried asking the ladies about the news of the dead envoy, but her mother declared that it was ill-disposed to accuse the Haradrim having a hand in his death before it was proved.

"Your Highness, there's a young man waiting your pleasure outside" a handmaid appeared at her door just when she seated herself on a chair.

"A young man?" she blinked. Who on Middle-Earth can that be? She stood and followed the maid to the parlor where a _very _young man, practically a boy, was 'waiting her pleasure' standing from one leg to the other, utterly confused and uncomfortable.

"Your Highness" he bowed in front of her, his fair hair falling into his face. "I was to deliver a letter to Your Highness. If it please Your Highness. My lord asked if Your Highness could send an answer back with me. If it please Your Highness."

"A letter?" Gilraen looked at him aghast.

"Here's the letter, Your Highness, if it please Your Highness."

If he says Your Highness again… Gilraen took the letter and managed a reassuring smile.

_Would it be a problem, my sweetest, if I only made up for that lost lesson on Monday at noon? If it won't suffice, I'll expect you on Tuesday as agreed. Please let me know. _

It came down to her then. The boy was Torundir's squire.

"Ah, all right. Please tell your lord, it will suffice" she told him.

"Your Highness." He bowed deep again and left.

The maid, Mirawell laughed as she closed the door behind him.

"Still has a deal to practice, he does, doesn't he, my princess?"

"He's what? Twelve, thirteen? He'll surely come around with time" Gilraen replied absently.

More than happy to escape Sybille's dressing fright for the feast that'd start seven hours later, Gilraen made her way down to the practice hall shortly before noon for her archery practice, only to find two saddled horses awaiting her at the stables. A stranger red mare and Torundir's large black stallion.

"Good day, Your Highness, ready to set off?" he emerged from the stables pulling on a pair of leather gloves.

"Are we going somewhere?" Gilraen blinked.

"Aye, as I said, Your Highness will have a go at shooting arrows from horseback, and to that we must ride out. I must also make a short detour home, I forgot to bring my accounts along." Torundir said mounting his horse while one of the stable boys removed the halter from the red mare. Gilraen mounted and followed the man already kicking his horse into an easy trot.

"You are not seriously expecting me to work a bow from horseback, are you?" she asked Torundir when they were out of the stable boy's earshot.

"Can you see a bow anywhere, my sweet?" he glared at her.

She couldn't. "Oh, thank you." She said relieved and he chuckled shaking his head.

"I hear you'll be feasting tonight. Looking forward?"

"How do you manage that you always know about everything?" Gilraen mused.

"Ah, I have all the right friends in all the right places…" he winked "Barahin told me."

"I know, I was asking in general. Where are we going?" she looked up as they trotted through the gate leading the way onto the fifth level.

"The part about having left my accounts home was true enough" Torundir said.

"Wow." Gilraen concluded as they turned into a narrow back-ally running between two large stone manses and drew up by a small oaken gate. "You live here?"

They dismounted and Torundir opened the gate for her. "After you, sweetest." It led into an ally, or rather a tunnel, it was, of uncut ivy and some other creeping evergreens. At the end of the allyway they came upon another heavy door with rusty fringes and pushing it open, Torundir led her into a wide hall with walls full of trophies, torches and some old carpets. The furnishing consisted of dark teakwood chests, a table, some stools, but mostly the room was just a gateway with doors and stairs leading the way to the many parts of the manor. Through one arch on the right Gilraen could make out the dark silhouette of a parlor with chairs, divan, a smaller table and a hearth, in the opposite direction a door led into a dining hall which probably led on to the kitchen and the tallest door with its two wings opened into a wide hallway marking the way to the main entrance.

The whole place had a dark mystique about it, the torches weren't lit and the weak early spring sunlight creeping through the windows gave little enough illumination. The hangings on the walls portrayed battles or hunting scenes and one of them bore the White Light-Tower of the Bay of Belfalas with the seven stars around its top.

"Do you live here alone?" Gilraen asked as she turned around for about the fourth time to get a good look at everything.

"With a noisy and annoying lot of serving women, an even worse housekeeper, two stable boys, and some man-at-arms."

"It's really…"

"Grim?"

"No. A little dark maybe, but I like it, it's really… fascinating. The more I look, the more secrets it seems to have."

"Most people call that grim."

"Where are the people?" One odd thing about the place was the lack of people, the palace was always full of servants and guards, squires and messengers, retainers and visitors.

"Off to the market, an inn or brothel, I don't know." He shrugged. "Wine?"

Gilraen slowly veered round. Every minute she spent in the manse bore testimony to her suspicion about their reason for coming here.

"Wine?" she raised an eyebrow. "So, you left your accounts here? And you brought me along to fetch them, through a back-alley into a large manor that is completely empty of any servants you might have. And now you offer me wine. Did I miss anything, my lord?" she smiled at him taunting.

"No, I believe you grasped the bottom line as perfectly as always, my sweet" Torundir grinned wickedly and walked up to her wrapping his arms around her waist. "I just had the thought our last lesson _was _so rudely interrupted. And I thought," he went one in a husky voice planting a kiss onto her lips "that you might want to try it somewhere _warm_, huh, sweetest? In bed, maybe?"

"I actually believed you wanted me to have a… ah, traditional lesson."

"Did you now?" he nuzzled against her neck.

"Up until we rode down that back-alley." She whispered and lifted her lips to his cheeks for a kiss, but instead a small squeal escaped her mouth as she felt the ground slip from under her feet. Laughing Torundir scooted her into his arms and headed for the stairs. "Upstairs, if it please Your Sweetness." Gilraen giggled and kissed him.

"You are as light as a feather" he concluded as they entered his bedchamber and he lowered her onto the great wooden bed piled with pillows and coverlets in fresh white cotton rushes. He undid her cloak and started his battle with the laces of the bodice while her own hands worked to get rid of his doublet. It took fifteen minutes to get her out of her dress and it completely aroused Torundir who almost tore off her soft undergarment while Gilraen started unlacing his breeches with shaking fingers.

"Heavens, you are so beautiful" he said in a throaty voice studying the curves of her body when she finally stood naked in front of him. "You look even more beautiful than I ever imagined." He mused never taking his eyes off of her body as he pulled off and tossed away his breeches. Gilraen gasped soundlessly as she drank in the sight of his nakedness.

"And you are so large" she finally said and Torundir burst out laughing.

"That's something men like to hear" he murmured into her ears as he took him in the arms and laid her on the bed. Their hands wandered along each other's body, he cupped her round breasts and buttocks while her hands brushed up and down his hard manhood and massaged the taut muscles of his back. His hands found their way between her legs and soon he was deep inside her claiming her body, first gently and then harder with every stroke till she shuddered and cried out in pleasure. He spent himself inside her collapsing on top of her, groaning with satisfaction, her slender legs wrapped around his hips.

They lay there for some minutes without a word and finally Torundir rolled off of her to rest against a pillow while Gilraen pulled herself up to rest against him.

"You know what makes you so wonderful?" he asked pulling a cover over them, stroking her upper arm. "This wildness deep inside that sweet nature of yours."

"Wildness? Wildness is the last thing I would expect to find in myself." She said amused.

"That's because you never go deep enough to find it, like I did" he smirked and kissed her golden locks as she laughed.

"Torundir?" something came to her mind.

"Aye, my sweet."

"What's up with that dead envoy? What will be made of his death?"

"I know not just yet. The King waits to see how Harad reacts. If they send back the body and offer a fine story of what happened with their condolences, it'd be an ill thing to accuse them of doing him away. But if they don't…" he trailed off. "We'll see what the dog eater bastards have to say about it."

They talked for a little more, but the time of dressing each other back up finally came, as did trotting back to the sixth level. And two hours later Gilraen was already being bathed and prepared by five handmaids for the feast given by Florian's family, including his little niece. Anarys, her name was.

* * *

I'd still be happy if you told me your opinions in a review or PM :)

Thanks for reading and Chapter 5 - A Chat with the King is coming up, tomorrow evening, because I'll have an exam tomorrow and won't have the time to random update sooner. It'll feature Aragorn (as you might have guessed)


	8. Chapter 5 - A Chat with the King

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

So my exam today was a disaster, but results only come tomorrow, so I have plenty of time to update *evil smile*. This chapter features Aragorn and please note that he is a busy and often troubled King here who has a whole realm to take care of. Somehow my vision of Aragorn as King is somewhat Elrondish. Oh my that sentence... I'll sleep more than three hours tonight.

* * *

**A CHAT WITH THE KING**

Coming face to face with Lord Barahin only four hours after getting laid by his friend was the most uncomfortable and most stupid thing Gilraen had ever gone through.

After they were through the pleasantries they sat down along the large longtable, already set gorgeously, awaiting the royal guests in the dining hall of Florian's parents' home. Lord Malberen had the place of honor on his father's right and her mother asked Lady Doriel to sit with her. Lord Barahin, Eldarion and Florian himself were seated near Lord Marlberen, while on the other side of the great table Lady Ëlyel was dutifully making friends with Sybille. Brianneth soon sank into a deep conversation with Florian's sister and younger brother. Nearby Aryana tried to teach rock-paper-scissors to little Anarys who was the sweetest child Gilraen had ever seen.

Eventually the feast even turned out to be quite enjoyable and the dishes were perfectly seasoned and marvelously delicious. Gilraen told that to Lady Doriel who was overwhelmed with joy by the comment, especially because she couldn't fail to notice that the queen was barely picking at her food. Despite her mother claimed everything was tasty, she couldn't restrain herself from commenting how heavy she still found Gondorian cuisine.

The best thing about the night though, was that nobody was paying Gilraen any mind, so she could listen to or join any conversation she liked without the hazard of being harassed for having no suitor and being grim. She played for a while with the little one - Anarys did have the mark of a once broken bone on her right index finger. She watched how Brianneth amazed and seduced Florian's brother – clearly their mother's daughter and Sybille's sister. Aryana was sulking, because all the company she had was Florian's sister who was closer to Brianneth in both age and personality than to herself. The men were talking politics, and – best thing about the evening – Sybille was having the time of her life in the circle of their mother, Lady Doriel and Lady Ëlyel.

After the long feast Gilraen had serious difficulties getting up in the morning and setting off with Sybille to attend their music lesson. Eldarion caught up to accompany them down the sixth level and shared his favorite moments of the feast, namely the roast boar, his conversation about Harad with their father and Lord Malberen, his conversation about jousting with Lord Barahin and Florian, and Lord Malberen's wine. Sybille listed every single moment of the night as her favorites and confided that Florian had a cousin who was their age and said to be good-looking.

"Pray spare me Sybille, I'm too sleepy to protest…" Gilraen cut her across yawning. It was a bad idea. The comment launched a heated argument about her behavior and attitude and poor social skills and assumed envy for Sybille. The price she had to pay for yesterday's flawless night. In the end – as always – Eldarion and Sybille won and Gilraen admitted every accusation to see the end of the conversation as quick as possible.

"… so start acting like the young and pretty princess you are, otherwise you'll grow old lonely and wretched. And stop flying at Sybille's throat every time she tries to help you, because she is right. I must go, good day to you dear sisters" Eldarion finished his conclusion and waved them goodbye. Sybille decided the world – in this case, as in most cases, herself – was set to rights and gave a rest to the topic moving on to her plans for the afternoon as they walked up to the music room in the Academy.

Three hours and two more lessons later Gilraen walked down to the stables clutching the two inches thick book from the library she was supposed to read for her History lesson tomorrow.

"Do you find Gondorian cuisine heavy?" Torundir asked instead of a greeting.

"I knew you would know everything of last night by the time I got here" she replied unsurprised. "You always do. And in that case you must also know I even told Lady Doriel how I loved the food."

"I didn't. Even Barahin can't memorize everything, it seems." He said with a cheerful jerk of the head.

"How did he like the feast?" Gilraen put down her book.

"He said it was fine and your sister was charming, though he can't imagine how his brother can endure all that chatter. Mostly he went on about how interesting it was to see what sort of persons the royal children are."

"And on how rude it was of the queen to dislike the food." Gilraen said with a tiny curl of her lips. When she saw Torundir frown, she went on. "I agree with him. She should stop saying that all the time."

"Ah. So, you don't find Gondorian cuisine heavy? Or you just know better than to say so?"

"I _am _Gondorian, I lived all my life in Gondor, I grew up on its cuisine. Are we riding out?"

"Why are you so moody?" he asked twinkling at her.

"I'm sorry…" Gilraen gave a wry smile. "I just had a rough morning."

"Nothing better to forget that than a good ride, and on horseback this time" he mounted his horse winking and Gilraen followed his example. "Off we go then, milady."

They trotted through the tunnel of the great rock slicing the White City into two and headed down the spiraling main street toward the first level and the city gate. Once they were out Torundir slowed back into a light walk and turned to her with a smile.

"How are you, my sweet? Apart from the rough morning" he added with a grin and Gilraen couldn't help but smile at his words.

"Fine. The feast was nice. Lord Barahin's little girl is such a sweet child."

"Aye, she is. Little 'Narys. Even Thunder likes her." He patted the black stallion on his neck.

"Lady Ëlyel let her near your horse?" Gilraen laughed incredulously.

"Sure, she was mounted on him for a circle in the yard."

"She has a potential! She is mounted on Thunder and a _pony _bites her. Life has its japes."

"Aye. You could wed any highest born lad and you end up in _my_ bed. Life does have its japes and I'm more than thankful for it." Torundir gave her a grin. "All right, sweetling, let's see to it that you learn something today, after all the time we spent… otherwise occupied. Gallop a circle around me. Just patiently, calmly. No hurry. Think what you must do and do it."

She did. It went almost as it should have.

"Gilraen" he started when she reined up beside him and chuckled before he went on. "Certain things are meant to be inserted deep in certain places. Such rule does not apply for your feet and the stirrups."

Gilraen was laughing so hard at the absurd image she felt as though she was going to fall off her mare. "Oh my… Torundir…" she choked on the words.

"What I'm saying is" he chuckled shaking his head. "you must get your feet out of the thrice damned stirrups, or else you'll lose control over that bloody horse, understood?"

"Yes…" she chuckled one last time. "I understood."

"Good." He nodded with a smirk. "Another circle then."

Ten circles later Torundir was finally satisfied with her gallop and drew up to dismount.

"You'll gallop Thunder now."

"You can't be serious. Must I?" Gilraen gaped at him.

"You must. He has a temper, but I'm telling you how to handle him."

"You do this to all your learners at some point or am I the only one to deserve that?" Gilraen stared at the black beast in disbelief.

"I could fill books with the things I do to you but not to my other learners" he said and Gilraen rolled her eyes at him shaking her head. "You must learn how to ride _any _horse, otherwise what's the point? And that includes ones with an ugly temper."

Gilraen dismounted and walked up to the stallion who eyed her in a very suspicious and hostile way all the while. She reached out a hand and gently touched the horse's neck greeting him in a soothing tone. Torundir gave her the reins as he watched the scene half taut, half curious. When she took it, Thunder yanked his head backward in protest. Gilraen took a step backward while Torundir soothed his horse, the reins still in her hand.

"Come on" he told her. "Come on." He repeated when he saw her hesitation. "He will behave while I'm here. Or are you afraid?"

That was unfair. Thunder was even larger than her father's horse, with a worse temper than any horse she had seen. He _was _something to be afraid to mount. But Torundir despised this kind of weakness; when there was no real reason for it, but the lack of determination and self confidence. And Gilraen was sure he knew full well she'd know that too. And she was not going to admit to cowardice in front of him. So she stepped to the stallion without answering him and climbed up into the saddle. Literally climbed up, mounting Thunder properly would have taken those extra eight inches Torundir had in height and she didn't.

"You see, he's innocent as a kitten" he smirked and patted the horse on his shoulder-blades. "Fine, sweetest. It's going to be bloody easy, don't worry. Be very careful with your heels, he's not the kind that needs nudging once in gallop. But also, headstrong as a bull, he is, so with the reins, don't be careful. If he won't stop, tear off his head, if he yanks it, tear off his head, if he won't turn, tear off his head. Then you can also give him heels, but carefully. And a lot goes for balance. If you do it right, he'll know your thoughts by the way you keep balance and there will be no need for reins or heels. That's it for now, walk a little."

Thunder was even reluctant to take a step and when he finally did he walked where he wanted giving no heed to Gilraen whatsoever.

"Be hard on him, tear off his head, I told you. Tear his mouth bloody if that's what it takes, just make him obey."

It took half an hour to make Thunder obey her at least in walk and trot. When it came to spur him into a gallop though, he yanked at the reins, kicked the ground in frustration and trotted back to Torundir with an indignant glare.

"Slip forward in that saddle, sweetling." He said and Gilraen did so, just a heartbeat before he swung himself up behind her. "Mmm, I should even be grateful to this thrice damned beast" he murmured into her neck as he drew an arm around her and took over the reins. With that he jammed his heels into Thunder who neighed in surprise and broke into a light gallop at once.

"That's incredible!" Gilraen shook her head as Torundir slowed the stallion back.

"You now." He said giving her the reins. And even more incredibly this time Thunder obeyed her as well. "The bloody bastard won't dare object now…" Torundir shook his head and took back the reins urging the horse into a faster pace.

Thunder's gallop was magnificent. Having Torundir behind her with his arms around her body, his thighs against her hips probably improved the experience even further, but the stallion had a wonderfully tranquil and yet dynamic drift.

"Now don't tell me it wasn't worth it, huh?"

"Oh, it was worth it. But mostly because of this." Gilraen laughed and nuzzled her head against his chest while his arm tightened around her waist.

"I have a bad influence on you" Torundir smirked as he drew up beside Gilraen's perplexed mare waiting for their return. Torundir dismounted and lifted Gilraen from the saddle not troubling to put her down, but seating her straight on top of her own horse while she giggled at the process.

"You did well" he smiled up giving her thigh a soft pat and turned to mount his black beast. "Back to the city now, sweet princess, fast if possible, I have lessons to hold."

And so they spurred ahead, Gilraen's golden locks and deep green skirts flapping in the wind as she kicked her horse to run faster and faster. Torundir turned his head to see if she was keeping up and gave her that typical knee weakening grin of his as he spurred Thunder further. They were flying soon. Wind tore at her gown, at her hair, at her face drawing tears into her eyes but never could it blow away her smile.

Gilraen's hair was a tangle by the time she was back in the palace almost running down the hallways leading to her bedchamber before she came upon Sybille or her mother with such a messy look. Instead, she came upon her father.

"Gilraen." The king of Gondor showed up in all grace clad in the finest deep red velvet attire.

"Father." Her heart skipped a beat, but her father's eyes were too kind to know about any of her on-goings.

"You look very … windblown today."

"I had this Hunting lesson and rode out." She explained quickly glimpsing the hint of disapproval beyond the mirth in her father's eyes. "And what brings you here, Father? Would you be looking for someone?"

"For you."

"For me?" Gilraen had no idea what to make of that. It was probably years, since her father last came looking for her alone, without her mother and nowhere near mealtime.

"Yes. May we speak?"

"Yes." She said utterly stunned. "Yes, of course. As you wish, Father." She went on remembering herself. The king offered her an arm which proved very uncomfortable to accept remembering who the last person was to hold her arm. Guilt washed over her like a heavy waterfall as they walked the corridor.

"Your mother asked me to speak with you." Her Father started. Yes, that explained everything. A part of her was relieved, the other pressured even further. "She worries. So do your sister and your brother." _So it was Sybille and Eldarion's work… _They went to their mother, who went to the dagger of betrayal stabbed her through the stomach. "They worry that you push away happiness from yourself." Oh she didn't. She tried to push it away for months, then fell into its arms and opened her legs to it. Guilt twisted her entrails again. "When you were born, your mother and I decided, in consideration of our own history, that you and your sisters would be given the freedom to choose a consort of your own liking. I did not arrange marriages for you, you have the chance to marry whoever you love, within rational confines of course." He looked at her.

"Yes, Father."

"Sybille chose Florian. He is a good young man of noble birth, worthy of your sister's hand, loved by her, your mother and myself. She's betrothed now. All the suitors trying to win her hand are coming over to you now. An even wider range of choice." Those words sunk a knife into her heart. Slowly, gracefully, painfully. Now Sybille was taken, she'd suffice for them too. Not before. "And yet, you remain cold and reluctant. Is there no-one perfect enough for a royal princess's taste?" So there it was. She was the one too conceited, not lowering to the imperfection of youths of lesser birth. How many times she listened to that in the past two years. "Florian proved perfect enough. I don't ask you to like everyone. All we ask of you is to be open and kind to suitors. You never know who might move your heart." Many tried but none _did_. One did who never _tried_. "Ask your sister's help, if you feel lost. Sometimes a third person can tell our feelings better than we ourselves." That twisted both the dagger and the knife already in her flesh. Ask _Sybille_ to decide who she loved? Ask_ her_ to get her a husband? "Will you do that for us? All we want is to see you happy as well."

"I will" Gilraen formed the words without comprehending them.

"Good." The king smiled at her. "You will see that we were right. All you have to do is try harder." _Try harder_…the words echoed in her ear. _We gave you freedom to love, all you have to do is try harder. _Gilraen never noticed that they reached her chambers. "Think about what I said, my dear girl, will you?"

"Yes Father."

"And Gilraen" he turned back from taking his leave. "You will wish to be quick about finding your heart's love, for I can't keep telling Éomer and Faramir and all the rest of the more than worthy fathers having a son more than worthy of you that you're too young to be betrothed. I don't want to force anybody on you and I would rather you remained my little girl for yet a while, but you are a princess and things are expected of you."

"Yes Father." She did _everything_ people expected of her. She tried so hard. It wasn't enough it seems. Nothing was enough. Nothing was _good_ enough. Was it her fault? Probably. She felt her cheeks throbbing and burning with shame and humiliation. Blades twisted in her flesh painfully with every sentence her father uttered. "May I retire?"

"Yes. Thank you for listening to me. Tell your mother I spoke with you if she asks." That was all that mattered. Her mother will ask, she knew. And she'll tell. It was expected of her. "Smile now! And have a beautiful day, darling." That sent steel through her back.

"Thank you, Father. I wish you a beautiful day as well." Gilraen's lips formed the words as her father took his leave.

She entered the parlor she shared with her twin, the whole world a blur around her. A maid came up saying something. _Princess Sybille was having a walk in the gardens with young Lord Florian._ A hundred rusty nails stung her eyes. _She was tired, she wouldn't join them, she'd rest._ She never heard her own voice, but the serving girl bowed and headed for the door, so she must have responded... She walked into her bedchamber slowly and clumsy like a creeping shadow on the walls. Like the crawling shadow she felt like. Her hands found the handle bar and shut the heavy door. Stiffly she lowered herself onto the bed sending all the phantom steel deeper into her heart and belly and back. But instead of blood, thick drops of tears landed on the fine embroidery of her lace fringed satin cushions. She rested her head on one of them as the salty streams soaked her cheeks soundlessly. They almost felt like that cool breeze licking at her face on the back of Thunder not an hour past.

* * *

So how does it feel when you are so happy and the next moment somebody comes along and smashes you joy and happiness - really shitty. Especially if this somebody is a family member. (Oh my goodness, I should get another coffee and never do three-hours-of-sleep again, I literally forgot writing...and talking... and sort of everything). Yeah... Chapter 6 - Relief is coming soon.

Thanks for reading and please tell me your opinions in a review or a PM! :)


	9. Chapter 6 - Relief

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

AND I passed. How cool is that? Super Cool. I'm so awesome to have passed this exam, it was SO difficult. (egosim off) And here is the new chapter, everybody is relieved. For one reason, or the other.

* * *

**RELIEF**

"You missed me, didn't you?" he breathed as his lips tore ruthlessly at the tender flesh of her neck leaving it red and burning.

"So much" Gilraen panted with one arm around his neck holding on as though her life was at stake.

"Not as much…" he kissed her "as I missed you…" he kissed her again "my sweetheart…"

In five minutes they were both naked and Torundir was lifting her onto the bed.

In ten more she had her legs wrapped around his hips, her back arching with climax as she let out a high pitched shrill of pleasure.

They lay on the bed spent and content inhaling and exhaling slowly. Gilraen felt Torundir's eyes on her and turned her head to meet his gaze.

"You are amazing." He said.

_You stand alone with that opinion_, Gilraen thought, but instead of saying it, she rolled into his arms and curled up against him. She loved when he held her, it was the most glorious and peaceful feeling in the world. He locked her between two strong arms and nuzzled his short trimmed circle beard against her shoulder as he kissed her neck.

"Tell me something, my sweet."

"All I could tell you is rather sour and unpleasant." The bitter taste of the talk with her father still hadn't left her mouth. "And it wouldn't do to ruin this moment."

Torundir chuckled and started fondling her arm and waist.

"Not indeed. I can't think of anything interesting… All I heard today was Damrod's wife demanding an annulment. Well that's no wonder when Damrod prefers boys in his bed."

"WHAT?"

"You didn't know that? Why do you think they never had a child? I bet he never even bedded the woman. Maybe once, to consummate their marriage but that's not always enough…"

"Goodness, he's on the council. I mean… aw, does my father know about that?"

"Huh?" Torundir seemed to have trailed off in the meanwhile. "Aye, everybody knows that."

Gilraen sat up and pulled a coverlet up to her chest. "I never knew…" she looked out of the window. Two more hours till sunset. "Ah… I'll have to leave soon."

"Gilraen" he called with a frown.

"Yes?" she turned back with a smile.

"What about us in that field?"

"Excuse me?" she gave him a puzzled look.

"It just comes to my mind, _I_ had been inside you enough times to have left a child there. I bet the King and Queen wouldn't rejoice to have a grandchild just yet, especially not by me…"

"That comes to your mind _now_?" Gilraen blinked at him, her lips curling into a smile.

Torundir looked rather confused and all Gilraen could do was not burst out laughing. "What?" he scowled at her.

She took his face between two hands and kissed him on the lips.

"If that came to _my _mind just now, we'd probably be facing serious trouble. After our first time I went down to the first level and had a crone brew me moon tea. There's still some left, so no need to worry."

"Ah… good." He kissed her back relieved. "You are too clever to get in trouble."

"And opening my legs for you justifies just that, right?" she grinned at him joking.

"What else?" he smirked and pulled her back down onto the bed fondling and kissing her.

In the next few days Gilraen had _three_ Hunting lessons in a row that didn't end in Torundir's bed. Instead, they rode out and he made her struggle with all his _bloody easy_ exercises of making the horse jump without putting it into gallop first, making the horse gallop without putting it into trot first and worst of all, making the horse jump uphill. Fifteen other lessons in the next days consisted of appalling them about the upcoming exams. Not like there was any chance of the tutors denying a successful exam to a princess of Gondor. The only lesson Gilraen was somewhat worried about was Hunting. Her riding was getting better and better, thanks to the practice times three times longer than she was actually supposed to have, but she was rather helpless with everything else from archery to hawking. And Torundir was exactly the kind of person who would flunk her without a second thought with no regard to her birth if it came to that. She wondered if he'd let her pass with regard to their love affair, but that was not like Torundir either, and especially not like _her_ to accept.

Literally, though, knowing she'd pass everything didn't change the fact that she had to start studying very hard. It'd not do to perform poorly on the tests and be allowed to pass nonetheless. It'd embarrass and ridicule her. So Gilraen started to spend her afternoons reading the heavy books her tutors subscribed for the exams. Each and every one of them was more boring than the previous. She found she hated studying. There was no point to it. When one cleans silver, the cutlery is clean and shiny afterwards, when one tries to study, she only wastes the time. There's no result. Nothing is shiny, nothing is clean. One just waits for a moment in life when she'll need to determine the spiece of fishes in the river from the taste of the water. Sometimes she wondered if Sybille was right about not opening a single book at all. But only when Sybille wasn't around gloating about how she was so lucky to be a Princess because like this she hardly had to study at all and would still pass everything.

After a two hours long Dancing lesson with her sister one day, Gilraen was sure any book was better than another Dancing lesson with Sybille. Her sister decided she wasn't being precise enough with the steps and felt obliged to tell that to their teacher too. So for two hours Gilraen was the center of attention with her imprecise, incorrect dancing steps. At least the day was nice once she finally escaped the Dancing hall, beautiful spring midday with sun and pleasant breeze. She made her way down the Sixth Street and inhaled the various scents blown from the blooming flowers from all the trees of the White City.

Torundir was talking with Lord Beregond in front of the stables while two stable boys were running up and down saddling Gilraen's mare. So they were going to ride out. Again. In the fifth level's direction she spotted the Too-Heavy-Shield-Boy going off with a flea in his ears. Gilraen turned her eyes back at the two men as she approached. Torundir's look gave away at once how much he disliked what Beregond was telling him.

"…so what do you say?" the commander of the guard asked uncomfortably.

"What the bloody hell she takes me for? A fucking garden boy?" Torundir asked raising an eyebrow, half in ridicule, half tensing. "And what the hell she takes _you_ for to have you running after me? And it's not my duty to deliver her pot-fucking-flowers. Anyways, if she wants something from me why can't she tell it to me?" he grunted in a low voice.

"Probably because she knows how much sympathy you have for her and she herself has no more for you either… So will you deliver her the potflowers? And think before you answer."

"I'll write to my father of her… _request_" Torundir formed the word as though it was the ugliest curse in the world "He will send somebody up to the city with those damned pots or flowers or whatever the hell they are."

"Perfect. Thank you. Do you have some—" Beregond spotted Gilraen standing in the nearby waiting patiently for the two men to finish the conversation. "Your Highness! My pardons, forgive me, I…"

"There is nothing to forgive, my lord" Gilraen gave him a smile. "I'm just waiting for my horse to be readied" Torundir nodded to her and said his quick goodbye to Beregond who still seemed incredibly upset about not noticing the princess. When he left, Torundir gestured at Gilraen to mount and he swung himself up to the saddle too, kicking his stallion into a speedy trot leaving behind the sixth level, then the fifth and soon the city gate itself too.

Once out in the Pelennor field the man slowed his horse back into an easy walk and turned to her. "Good day my sweetest princess, how are you?"

"Fine, my lord" she grinned at him. "And yourself?"

"Ah, I'm feeling so very honored right now. I have the chance to deliver potflowers on my next journey back from my father's home. Real seashore flowers in marble pots. Don't tell me you wouldn't be excited by the prospect of such honor."

"Who wants you to deliver potflowers?" Gilraen asked laughing.

He jerked his head and replied arching one eyebrow. "Your mother's majesty"

"_What_?!" Gilraen stared at him is disbelief.

"She sends Beregond after me to tell she wants me to get her seaflowers. Is that her custom, pray? To send off officers to fetch her flowers?" he tried to keep outrage out of his voice, probably for Gilraen's sake. There was no need. Her mother often had ideas which were most ill-fitting in the society of mortal men.

"Oh goodness, that's so… like her. Don't take it personally, she… she is unable to comprehend that while an Elven lord would be honored to deliver rare products of nature to his queen, a normal mortal man would feel mocked…"

"She lives among mortal men for two decades now… is she unable to comprehend?"

"Well, the right word is _refuses_ to comprehend" Gilraen gave a grimace. "You really shouldn't deliver her flowers…"

"She'll have her flowers, she is the queen and no matter what I think, it's not my place to teach her a lesson" He halted as they reached the river. "Dismount." They did so and Torundir bind the horses to a rotting tree trunk on the riverbank. "Just sit down, I don't feel like doing any work" he turned back to Gilraen. She perched into the grass and blinked up at the man smiling, gesturing him beside her. Torundir lowered himself into the grass never stopping in a sitting position, but stretching his muscled legs and placing his head in Gilraen's lap. She laughed and cupped his face leaning down to kiss him.

"So, will you tell me why you were feeling so sour the other days?" he glanced up at her and Gilraen went into a short summary of the conversation with her father.

"He should make up his mind. Choose my daughter or marry my daughter the two at the same time won't work out. Especially that you can't choose _anybody_…"

"Yes. That's a significant point of the matter" Gilraen grimaced. "And what news with you?" she asked the man.

"Just the flowerpots. As if I didn't already have a bad day. You remember that idiot kid?"

"I saw him leaving. He seemed quite depressed" Gilraen nodded.

"I bet he did…" the man grunted.

"What did you say to the poor thing?" Gilraen shook her head with an apologetic smile. Torundir could be very rude, but he was never rude to her and thus she had a hard time guessing how people took Torundir being rude to them.

"What did _I _say to him?" he snorted. "The kid walks up to me, after an hour of performance like that of a disabled donkey's and tells me his father wants to speak with me, because he thinks my way of teaching is too bloody harsh for his son. Can you imagine that?"

Honestly, Gilraen could absolutely imagine that, and all she could do was chuckle at his words. "Let's say I don't find it impossible to imagine that…"

He gave her a knowing grin. "So my way of teaching is too harsh on the boy. It was a mistake to accept him for a learner. He is too weak and too spoilt to ever become a swordsman. He should go study something, that's all he's good for, I told him that. But his father is convinced it's my fault the kid is utterly unable and wants to come and tell me how to teach him."

"Maybe he just worries about his son and thinks another way of teaching would make him improve." Gilraen suggested twining her fingers with his.

"This fellow pays me to make a man of his son and wants to tell me how to do it? If he knows it so well, why come to me and pay instead of doing it himself?" he glanced up at her.

"You do have a point there" Gilraen nodded humming.

"The boy's a disaster and not due to my ways. All the lads I taught turned out well. Look at Barahin, he is among the finest swordsmen... or Beregond's son, or Erandur's youngest…"

"I like the way you teach" Gilraen noted. "And Torundir, you said something about it was a mistake to accept him… It's up to you who you accept?"

"Up to a certain point. There are written and unwritten rules. Why?"

"I was just wondering…" she mused.

"...if I accepted you as a learner because I had to or because I wanted to?" he finished for her smirking. He knew her way too well. "There is no way not accepting royalty. I'll be honest with you, I didn't like the idea at all. But after I spoke ten sentences to you I knew at once you were the exact opposite of what I was expecting" he sat up and kissed her.

Gilraen kissed him back smiling against his lips. "I'm glad I disappointed you" And to switch position, this time she lay down to rest her head on his thighs. Torundir smiled down at her fondly and played with her hair.

"The only thing I miss right now is some food and wine" he mused.

"Honeyed chicken and a peach" Gilraen nodded yearning. "I could eat a whole honeyed chicken right now…"

"You didn't have lunch?" the man raised a scowling eyebrow. He hated when she didn't eat.

"I did" Gilraen gave him a smiley eye-roll.

"Correct answer" he grinned down at her. "What did you have?"

"I don't really know…" she mused. "Something green…"

Torundir burst out laughing and dropped a kiss onto her cheek.

"Surely it was some potflower before it ended up on your plate..." he made a sound somewhere between a snort and a chuckle before he went on. "Barahin's mother makes marvelous honeyed chicken. Not like I had it many times, Malberen hates me, I only ever dined with them once…"

"…because he thinks you were a bad influence on his son." Gilraen finished chuckling.

"Exactly. I infected poor young fifteen year old Barahin's mind" the man laughed. "By the way, Gilraen, I want to infect your mind too, so remind me to give you a book on our next lesson. Or when you come to my house next" he added with a grin.

"I will. What sort of book will you give me?" she asked curiously.

"Interesting sort" was all his reply.

"How very informative you are, my lord" Gilraen chuckled.

"Not the usual dull Elven kind…" he shrugged.

"You read many Elven books, my lord?" she teased grinning.

"I don't read or write or speak Elvish, thank you" Torundir rolled his eyes at her with smile. It was one of his beliefs that it was an absurd thing for the world to learn Elvish, he told her on one of the very first practice lessons they had. People could learn any tongue and yet everybody was trying to learn Elvish as if it higher than any other language. He spoke an ancient version of Arnorian and Haradrim.

"Well, I can teach you anytime you wish. It's going to be _bloody easy_" she smirked at him.

"I'm only interested if there are swear words in Elvish" Torundir replied grinning down at her and Gilraen broke into a fit of giggles.

"You know, apparently there are…"

They talked for yet another hour before riding back to the city. It was the first lesson they spent otherwise than either practicing or going to bed. Gilraen had the time of her life and the man seemed to agree too, as on their way back the only thing he would talk about was what a great company Gilraen always is.

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So that was it. Please let me know what you think, in a review or in a PM, I'd be so happy to find out your opinions, views or answer any question you might have. :) Thank you for reading!

Chapter 7 - Good News Bad News is coming up... I guess or tomorrow, depending on the atmosphere at home (because I'm going home today). If I have a chat with the king moment tonight, it'll definitely be tomorrow ^^


	10. Chapter 7 - Good News Bad News

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Here is next chapter.

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**GOOD NEWS BAD NEWS**

Gilraen entered the royal dining hall with Sybille. Their parents, sisters and brother were already seated. Aryana was sitting stiffly and refused to eat, Brianneth looked bored as she picked at the cakes in front of her, while the king, the queen and Eldarion were talking excitedly.

"I do wonder what took so long, though" her father was saying.

"You can imagine. But this ensures peace at least. Even if the enmity only deepened further. Maybe we'd be better off with a clean fight…" her brother mused.

"Don't talk of such, Eldarion. We should all be glad it never came to war." The queen scolded.

"Is it news from Harad?" Gilraen asked eagerly.

"They sent us the bones of the envoy with a long letter of apology, condolence signed by the Haradrim great master himself." Eldarion informed her.

"And that settles things now, right?" Sybille chirped as she sat down and poured herself a glass of honeyed milk.

"It seems they don't want war either. And I'll not give up peace without a strong reason myself." Their father answered her with kindly eyes. "But let us talk no more of war and Harad. What do you ladies plan for today?"

And so Sybille went on for the rest of the breakfast about the things she planned for the day. The first of many was to give Brianneth a lesson on the flute, so with their breakfast done, the two left the table, along with Eldarion who went off for a swordfight practice with Elboron and Florian. Aryana excused herself too, and was just about to leave the hall, when their mother spotted a chunk of ham between two slices of bread under her armpit.

"Valar, Aryana, have you lost your good sense?" she exclaimed. "You grease your dress, but that's still the least of the matter. What sort of a behavior is that?"

"I only thought I might be hungry later…"

"So you hide food under your arm, like some thieving orphan who is forced to starve? You are a princess of Gondor, for Valar's sake, try to behave like one! If you are hungry you tell your handmaids and they'll fetch you food!"

"I'll do it next time, I promise." Aryana blinked edging for the door.

"Stop. You will leave that here. I will not have you take food to your bedchamber, where you sleep. We eat at a table and sleep in our bed. Next time you will take a pillow with you for supper?" their mother gave a disapproving smile.

"I'll not! And won't take it to bed!"

"Do as your mother said, she is right." their father said with a look of dismissal. Gilraen watched her sister bite her tongue in frustration as she put down the ham and bread and left the hall sullenly.

"May I be excused as well?" Gilraen asked quickly wiping her hand in a soft tea-cloth.

Her mother looked at her surprised. "Of course, my dear, have you not gone with your sister? I thought you wanted to play the flute too… you can go, of course" she said rather distracted.

"Thank you mother"

_She didn't even see I stayed after Sybille left_, Gilraen thought. The observation left a queer taste in her mouth… her mother regarded her as an accessory to Sybille which had its advantages every once in a while, but Gilraen couldn't deny that it hurt her too. She went back to their quarters and knocked on Aryana's door, hoping she'd be inside.

"Leave!" came the answer from behind.

"It's Gilraen, let me in!" she called and in a moment her sister's distressed face appeared in the door.

"What do you want?" she snapped at her.

Gilraen pulled out the tea-cloth from under the topmost v-cut layer of her skirts and handed it her. Aryana frowned and unfolded it revealing two slices of ham and bacon.

"You can't let the poor thing starve for a whole day, right?" Gilraen gave her a knowing smile and turned to take her leave.

"Gilraen! You _know_?" Aryana stared at the food horrorstruck.

"I haven't told anyone. Nor will I. But you must find a place for it, you know. You can't keep in under your bed forever."

"Well that's the whole point. So I can keep him!" insisted the girl.

"You can't keep a dog under your bed. He needs room and fresh air and a place to soil." She turned to leave Aryana with the dog when she spoke again.

"You can tell me your secrets too, you know. I won't tell anyone either."

"_What?_" Gilraen went white for a second. No, she can't know about it. "What do you mean?" she went on forcing a smile on her lips.

"Don't you have secrets? I guess you do. Everyone does. Well, you don't have to tell me, it's not that I'm curious, Sybille's the one who wants to know everything that's none of her business. I just thought the only way I could pay you back for keeping my secrets is keeping yours." Aryana shrugged indifferently.

"Aryana, you don't have to _pay me back_ for keeping your secrets. That's just something natural to do for a sister, no?"

"Try and tell that to Brianneth…" Aryana grimaced. "Thanks for the food." And with that she retreated behind her door.

Gilraen shook her head and made her way for the library to find some book she could read on her balcony.

Next day she shared a poetry lesson with Sybille after which her sister hurried off with her friends, probably to compose their own love poems for the young lords they had eyes for. Gilraen was rather glad she wasn't asked to go along and headed for her archery lesson through the dark arcades of the Academy.

"Well, well, Gilraen, alone? Where's sweet Sybille?" a voice called behind her joking.

"Where's sweet Eldarion, Elboron?" she smiled at the steward's son.

"Uhh, I guess you are too much of an honorable lady to be told of that." He said with a wink.

"Then don't trouble yourself to share with me" Gilraen nodded. Elboron was almost like a brother to them, he and Eldarion were as close as she and Sybille. Or as close as she and Sybille used to be. But for the past two years the same distance evolved between her and Elboron as between her and the Sybille Eldarion duo, and talking to him always made her feel uncomfortable.

"You know about the upcoming event, don't you?"

"What event?" she didn't know about any event.

"Well, Prince Imrahil is coming up from Dol Amroth to the capital for a visit. There'll be a great hunt, some feasts, and best of all, he'll bring his…"

Ah, that she knew about. Too much.

"Son?" Gilraen guessed with an innocent smile.

"No, he has a daughter. They say she's very pretty, just turned seventeen. Black haired, olive skinned thing. We can't wait to see her."

"I'm sure she'll be… flattered by both of you" Gilraen smiled keeping irony off her tone.

"I hope she won't be too shy to join us for some game and dance, like someone still is." He said with a meaningful glare and Gilraen did her best to keep herself from making faces.

"She's surely not. Would you forgive me, I'll have a lesson."

"Of course. Polishing the mind, for ever and after." Elboron sang in a light voice. "I have sword practice with Florian too, good day, Your Highness!" he grinned and waved.

Gilraen sighed and continued down the hallway, out of the building, onto the street. She still couldn't decide if Elboron was mocking her when he called her Your Highness, or simply he shared the feeling that they were not so good friends anymore. He never called Sybille Your Highness at least. Sybille was one of them, their friend, part of their company in their stupid game and fun. A year ago they would make her go with them too, ride out, or sit in the garden. They always took a groom and a maid with them who brought wine and food along. The core was Eldarion, Elboron, Florian, Sybille and Miriel, Sybille's friend. And each time they went off for their fun, they'd bring some lesser young ladies and young lords to accompany them, less dear friends, sons and daughters of high born guests from Rohan or other Gondorian cities.

How she hated those times. Even the memory made Gilraen stressed. Sometimes they played truth of dare, a game with a dagger spinning around and choosing some of them for a truth or a dare. Truths were mostly incredibly intimate and personal things that one, or at least Gilraen, found hard to share with a bunch of untrustworthy stranger high-born adolescents. Dares were even worse, emptying a flagon of wine alone, sitting in someone's, some male one's, lap for the rest of the game (or until you were won over by another), kissing someone, being kissed (on the cheeks, on the mouth, on the neck and anywhere the applicant wished). The girls always fought each other to get into Eldarion's lap or kiss him, or have their shoulders bared by Elboron. The youths were the same, only they fought for Sybille.

Gilraen took part in four of such gatherings, but already on the third she lost count of how many kisses her sister gave and received. Well that was before things between her and Florian started getting more serious. Gilraen even assumed it started getting serious _once_ Sybille sat into _his_ lap.

She refused to go every time she had an excuse and with refusing each and every kiss and flirt and tease and flagon of wine Eldarion, Sybille and Elboron stopped asking her to come along after a while. She was more than thankful for that, but they seemed to have taken refusing to kiss Lord Daromir's son, Elboron and Florian equal to refusing their friendship. They spent most of their time together, because Florian was desperate to win Sybille for himself and as good friends, her brother and Elboron were, they helped him anywhere they could. And Gilraen slowly got left out of everything. Which she wouldn't have minded, having no taste for their fun, but after a while it turned out that the five had no interest for anything else they might have shared with her either.

Not until the time came to reveal Sybille's love for Florian to their parents over which she and Sybille plotted for a week. It was difficult to find the right time and the right place to tell their mother and father that of all the suitors she had, her sister had a mind to finally choose somebody. But once they planned it, the scenario worked flawlessly, Sybille told their mother and then the queen accompanied them to tell their father. Gilraen remembered standing behind Sybille all along, in case something went awry and her sister might need rescue. She didn't. But Gilraen was happy to be there to give her any help she might need. Sometimes it felt like their whole relationship came down to that in the past two years. She gave and Sybille took. And Gilraen wasn't sure how long she would still have something to offer.

Suddenly the practice hall rose up in front of Gilraen, and she could do nothing but to muse at how she never noticed walking down all the way to the great stone hall.

"Good day, my princess" a familiar voice greeted her. "I have bad news."

_That's a good start_, Gilraen thought with a grimace. "Me too" she said as she walked up to Torundir.

"That's a good start" he snorted unhappily. "Mine first. I'll be out of city till the end of the week, some business of my father's I must attend."

"Oh, _I _will be entertaining the Prince of Dol Amroth and the guests he brings next week. All of my lessons will be called off" that seemed to touch him more than she expected.

"WHAT? No bloody way. You can't seriously mean I'll have to survive without a woman for 12 days!"

All Gilraen could do was not burst out laughing. "You know, in war men survive _months_ without women." She pointed out amused.

"That's war. Peace spoils men. Twelve days is a long time."

"Well, you don't have to survive entirely without a woman, only without me" Gilraen gave him an apologetic look.

"Wait, wait. What's that supposed to mean?" he gave her a sharp look.

"That all you need do is to lift three fingers and say three words and any woman will fall into your bed to end your suffering, no?" she did her best to keep jealousy out of her tone.

"I don't want _any_ woman to fall into my bed, I want _you_. And I have only you falling into my bed, since I first had you fall into it." His voice rose.

That took her aback. She hoped that was so, but Torundir was the kind of man with whom you can never know, especially with all his stories about women Gilraen listened to.

"I… that's very—"

"You thought I'd fuck around while taking you to bed weekly?! I have no need and no taste for any other woman but you! You'd better keep that in mind." The man snapped at her.

"I didn't mean to offend you, I never meant that you… I only meant…" she couldn't find the words, but Torundir was reasonable enough to wait and hear out what she had to say. "It means a lot. That you don't have anyone, but me. I just… I don't really have any ground to expect you to be faithful to me due to the nature of our… relationship. And thus I did not. But I never meant to assume that you _fuck around_ while taking me to bed. It just came down stupidly, I'm sorry."

"You have no ground to expect me to be faithful to you… that's not something you often hear from a woman" his tone had an edge of approval, and as he saw Gilraen's still puzzled look, he gave a reassuring smile. "We are all right, sweetheart, it happens sometimes that our words fail to report our true meaning, there's never a problem of that. Besides, it's good we cleared this question. So… TWELVE bleeding days without you?"

Relieved that he was not angry with her, Gilraen chuckled softly. "I'm sorry"

"I hope I'll get a fine compensation, at least?" he offered with an arch of his eyebrows.

"You know, you might just get one…" Gilraen wondered. "When Prince Imrahil travels on my parents will escort him to Osgiliath for a last feast on his galley…And they'll be away probably for most of the day…"

"And you'll be all mine for most of that day" Torundir's lips twisted into a grin.

"If you would like" she smiled and reached up to kiss him. His arms locked her into a bone crushing hug as he kissed her back, hungry and fiercely.

"Wait…" Gilraen breathed as she pulled free from his grip. "We can't do it here, there are people in the stables… they'll hear."

"They will hear, aye, and I have some bloody little lordling to train after you, so we don't even have the time either. Hells fuck it all…" he drove a hand over his shaven head in frustration. "What would you like to do? Work a bow or what?"

"I can't do what would _like_ to, so the bow will suffice…" Gilraen smiled shyly and he gave a resigned chuckle.

* * *

So this was Chapter 7, please let me know what you think in a review or a PM, I'd love to know your opinions. Next chapter is coming tomorrow (or tonight, I'm not sure). Quite surprisingly it'll be Chapter 8 - Twelve Days Later.

Oh yeah, and I got an email alert about a guest review (which sort of disappeared from here oO), sarah is saying she doesn't like how Arwen is portrayed. I can completely understand that, the friend who read the whole stuff for me wasn't impressed with this Arwen either. What I can say in my own defense is A) This is a post ROTK Arwen who sacrificed her immortality and is still coping with adjusting to mortal lifestyle which makes her sort of generally frustrated. B) Arwen is obviously not THIS bad, this is just Gilraen concentrating on nothing, but Arwen's flaws. This is her perception of Arwen which is gravely influenced by the fact that Arwen keeps pushing her to step into her sister's shoes, something she doesn't like at all. And deep down in her heart she knows full well Arwen's right to some level which just enhances her tendency to only acknowledge her mother's flaws. C) Aragorn and Arwen's relationship is greatly affected by the mortal vs immortal issue. I have seen fics portraying this through giving Aragorn a constant feeling of guilt and more self esteem issues after Arwen actually gives up her immortality and becomes Queen, however, I hate when a man doesn't have balls/ego/etc like that. So, I decided to give these personality issues over to Arwen. D) Queen Cersei had a slight influence on Arwen's personality as well (just for the vanity and stubbornness and lack of willing to see other people's POV) E) Tolkien Arwen has absolutely no personality, only if we project the elf stereotype onto her. Thus there was nothing that could hold me back from doing this to poor thing... I don't really like Elves... or their superior personalities and flawless character, that's just fake for me... Sorry for that. Really :/


	11. Chapter 8 - Twelve Days Later

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

I'm bored. Which is funny, because I should be studying. No, actually it's not funny, because studying and the obligation to study is what generally makes me bored. Never mind. Just saying, so you'll know, why I update like a maniac :)

* * *

**TWELVE DAYS LATER**

"Oh my goodness! Don't you two have honor?!" Sybille exclaimed once she finally understood what Lord Faramir was discussing with Elboron and Eldarion for a good long hour.

"Don't _we _have honor?" Elboron stared at her half laughing while Eldarion was choking on his chuckles.

"_She _was the one who came to our beds and didn't even need much convincing, I assure you" Eldarion explained.

"Anyway, what do you expect? Her elder sister was bedded by half the court when she came to visit too. Only we were too young to take part." Elboron grinned at Eldarion.

"Yes! Boy, what a shame! The Forlan brothers started it and then at least five others had that girl…" he mused remembering.

"No, Barahin had her first. Florian told us, remember?" Elboron corrected him "Then Torundir, then the Forlan brothers, then old Theobald and Deoron… and… was that all?"

"I don't know… I guess that was all, but Greasy Garawin? Did he get her too?"

"What of Prince Imrahil?" Gilraen interjected tactfully.

"What of him? Oh, he doesn't know. Darling Sirallien won't tell such things to daddy. She never told him of her first, second, third and fourth and fifth and sixth man either. Why would she tell of the seventh and eigth?" Eldarion gave a nudge to Elboron and they shook with laughter again.

"So how did Lord Faramir learn?" Sybille blinked.

"Faramir caught Elboron with her." Eldarion choked.

"Yes, it was always your brother, the clever one. Prince Eldarion shagged the little bird in some minor council hall which is obviously the last place where people would look for him."

"Does _our_ father know?" asked Gilraen with a twinkle.

"No! Are you mad?" her brother lost his taste for laughter in a second. "He'd skin me for it. If you dare tell him, Gilraen, I swear you'll rue it! Be a bad girl for this one time and don't run to daddy telling on me!"

Gilraen stared at him. "I have never run to him to tell on you." She informed her brother flatly. "Well, I'd better go. Enjoy the feast!" she said hiding her hurt and rage at the accusation under the light courteous tone.

There was no further comment on the affair, Lord Faramir was keeping to his promise and covering for Eldarion and Elboron it seemed. The rest of the visit was eventless, feasts and hunts went on, the king and the steward rode out with Prince Imrahil and a number of high lords. On lighter afternoons some ladies accompanied them as well, Lady Éowyn and the queen herself among them. Gilraen guessed Torundir rode out once or twice too, though she only saw the man on the welcoming feast and once talking with Lord Beregond on the sixth level. The last time they met was before Torundir went on his family business and since even her lessons with him had been called off, she scarcely saw him. Gilraen found herself missing the man more and more with every passing day in parallel with getting more and more tired of the court and the endless feasts and royal duties.

On the last day of Prince Imrahil's visit Gilraen, her sisters and mother shared a tea with the prince's wife and daughter. Without Elboron or Eldarion around the event went rather flawlessly, and without any male companions around, Imrahil's daughter seemed as innocent as a lamb. Gilraen wondered how that was possible but then she thought of herself and realized with a hint of shame it was not such a great wonder after all. She dismissed the thoughts with an uncomfortable blush and resumed counting down the hours till the departure of the Prince and his family. In the evening she received a letter from Torundir saying, or rather commanding, that she was to go straight to his house as soon and fast as possible once the king and queen and prince left the city and her sisters weren't looking.

It was past 11 o'clock by the time Gilraen could make her way down to the fifth level. She crossed the narrow ally-way snaking between two great manses and shutting the rusty hind gate behind her proceeded along the dark ivy covered arcade. The place made her feel like entering a haunted castle. The back door opened the moment she reached it never leaving a chance to knock. Torundir grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into a deep kiss. Gilraen felt the ground slipping away from under her as he swept her off her feet wantonly to spin her around.

"It's been too long, sweetest" he grinned when he finally let go of her mouth.

"Good day to you too, my lord" she laughed and tugged at his arm so he'd put her down. Instead he slid an arm under her knees and started up the stairs with her.

"I missed you so much, my sweet" he murmured into her ears huskily and Gilraen couldn't help but entwine her arms around his neck and start kissing him.

"I missed you too" she breathed "Missed you so"

Two hours later Gilraen was lying naked on her belly on Torundir's great teakwood bed, her legs dangling in mid air and listening to the man's monologue while he rested his head on her buttocks.

"…but these are empty courtesies proving neither innocence nor guilt. So no, I don't think Harad should be trusted…Your heels are putting out my eyes." He finished pushing away her ankle playfully.

"I'm sorry" she chuckled. "If you just got up from me, your eyes would be safe."

"I'm not getting up, you are very comfortable." He said and reached up to pinch softly at the flesh of her waist.

"So what will be made of the Harad question?" Gilraen asked. She hated when he didn't finish a story and she loved listening as he spoke.

"Nothing. As usually. Some urge the king to round on Harad and smash them, but we know too little of their numbers and forces. Some say all is fine and trust the peace pact blindly. And the king says as long as there's no open cause for war it's better to support peace and keep our eyes open and wary."

"And what do_ you_ say?"

"That Harad will not be cowed with peace pacts. They already have great lands that once belonged to Gondor and it's only a matter of time before they decide they want a slice of the cake again. Until such time though, we'd be fools to provoke them. However, the clearest and only way out of the situation would doubtless be smashing Harad." Torundir mused his fingers tracing her waist up and down. "I'm hungry, let's go and eat something" he decided and sat up to find his breeches.

Gilraen pulled on her silken shift too and climbed out of bed to follow Torundir down into his kitchens. The place was not near as large as the royal kitchens in the palace, but the build of it had a certain resemblance to their kitchens. Most probably because all kitchens were built in the same fashion. A pot of stew was hanging over one guttering fireplace and Torundir walked up to it to help himself a portion. "Aren't you hungry?" he asked.

"What sort of stew is that?" Gilraen sniffed at the pot suspiciously.

"Rabbit." He saw her grimace at once. "Why?"

"Rabbit is the only thing I don't eat."

"Why?" he raised an eyebrow and sat down to a table with his bowl.

"When I was little I really wanted a pet and Gimli brought me a black bunny for my birthday" she explained walking around the kitchen and placing a flagon and a cup on the table. "And by some wonder my mother allowed me to keep it in a hutch in the garden. She was pregnant with Brianneth at that time, might have been just the moodswings that she allowed it." Gilraen filled the cup with rich smelling red and pushed it within the man's reach as Torundir chuckled at the comment. "But Eldarion hated the bunny and poked it with sticks every time he played in the garden. And one day the bunny had enough and bit his hand. That night they served it for dinner. And since then I don't eat rabbit."

Torundir gave a throaty chortle "That's an edifying story. I'll remember never to cross your brother. But eat something, my sweet, whatever you find."

She nodded and departed for another round in the kitchen.

"Gilraen!" Torundir called after her with a grin. "I'll get you another bunny if you'd like"

She rolled her eyes at him smiling. She adored him so. Every time he japed with her, or smiled at her, or teased her or kissed her warmth washed over her body and all she wanted was to sit around for the rest of her life listening to his jokes, stories, feeling his arms around her. Gilraen moved along the kitchen walls and tables sprinkling or pouring things into her bowl, stirring it, hanging it over the steam of the stew.

"What the hell is _that_?" Torundir stared at her as though she had a fresh flayed rat on her plate just out of a corner when she sat down opposite him with two small bowls.

"Pudding?" she blinked puzzled.

"You can cook?" he asked eyes wide with astonishment.

"This is not cooking. Just pudding. What you put into cakes."

"I never thought you could cook. Heavens fuck me, can the _queen_ cook too?"

"I don't think so. But this is not cooking either."

"Can you cook other things too?" he didn't seem to pay any mind to the part that pudding was not cooking. At all.

"This is not cooking." Gilraen repeated with a small smile. "Well, I never tried, but I watched our cooks making pies and cakes some times. Until my mother found out and forbade me to go to the kitchens and set back work. So theoretically I should be able to make apple pie or gingerbread…" she mused. "Though that's not cooking either, but baking"

"I'm positively amazed. I always knew you were not something one finds behind every second door, but you keep surprising me." He shook his head and took one jar to taste the cocoa colored dollop. "And it's even good."

"I'm glad it's good" Gilraen laughed and refilled his winecup.

"Thank you, sweetheart" he gave her a knee weakening smile and taking her hand he pulled her up and guided her into his lap. "And you never said anything about Prince Imrahil's visit week. How was it?"

"Boring. For me at least. My brother and Elboron found ways to entertain themselves and Prince Imrahil's daughter."

"Oh-ho. Takes after her elder sister, huh? Last time Imrahil was here with his other daughter, half the court laid that one too."

"Including yourself?" Gilraen grinned playfully.

"No, not me. I don't like redheads. She was too soft too. I don't like a chubby girl."

"Really, then Elboron got his counting wrong…" she chuckled.

"What?"

"He and Eldarion tried to list who laid this elder sister and in what order last time or so."

"Ah, see. No, I didn't lay her… And I haven't laid Merillen Balbar either, nor Erandur's wife, people gossip that too. That woman… bloody hell I'd not go near her even if someone paid for it."

"My mother's ladies in waiting gossip that you laid Lord Barahin's wife too." Gilraen grimaced with unmasked distaste in her voice. That was an incredibly evil gossip. Especially after she met Lady Ëlyel who was a lovely woman and unconditionally fond of her husband and daughter.

"Your mother's ladies in waiting gossip that Lady Éowyn laid the Witchking on the battlefield." Torundir snorted. "But better that than gossip about you and me." He added and nuzzled against her neck.

Gilraen turned around to face him and placed her hands on his chest reaching up to kiss him while he fondled her hips and waist. He stood up with her small body in his arms and carried her back upstairs into his bedchamber. She kissed his neck up and down as they ascended while he whispered into her ear all the things he was going to do with her once they reached the bed.

After he was done with everything he promised, and more, they lay in each other's arms in content tranquility. Torundir caressed her curves and played with her hair while she traced her fingers along his chest as they talked.

"You are so petite. How I never crush you beneath me, I always wondered" he observed amused.

"You are always careful not to crush me. And I'm not even so petite."

"Aye, you are. My thigh is thicker than this waist of yours." He gave her another soft pinch.

"How could _that_ be?" Gilraen sat up and found her shift. "I'll measure it." She detached a silken string from the garment's breast line and twined it around her waist. Marking the size with her thumb and index finger she removed it and turned to the man half laughing. Torundir pushed himself on one elbow and pulled up his knee grinning and enjoying as she coiled the string around his thigh.

"That's not fair." Gilraen concluded the result and he burst out laughing.

"I told you were so petite, sweet baby, why not believe me?" he wrestled her down on the bed and captured her lips fondly.

"Oh, by the way, when will I have my next lesson?" she asked curling up against him.

"As soon as possible, my sweet." He gave a husky chuckle.

"I meant a normal lesson. You know, with riding out and archery and the rest. You recall we had such too?" She teased.

"Hmm… faintly, but I recall" he smirked. "Whenever you want. You'll have your exams soon, so whenever you'll have time."

"I'll have an exam from Hunting too"

"Aye" he spat out the word as though it was a curse. "Damn the bloody fools who made that up. You'll have questions like How do you know how far ahead is the game you're after."

"How do I know?"

"From the blood it leaves behind. If it's black and dry, you are lagging behind, if it's red and fluid, you are close." said Torundir.

"What if the red and fluid is the blood of some other game?" Gilraen frowned.

"That's why you have hounds and bitches with you, so they'll take up the right scent."

Gilraen nodded and pulled the blanket up to her chest sitting up. "What's the time?"

"There's still an hour, maybe more till the king and queen get back to the city" the man replied and sat up as well. "What shall we do until then?" he stood up and walked to the window letting some air in. "Do you play cards?"

"What sort of game?" Gilraen asked with a hint of mistrust in her voice. Her memories of Eldarion's card games were still to vivid to trust cards. Her brother and his company played different sort of games each and every one of them including losing clothing.

"Just the usual. Since neither of us is overdressed, there's no point in trickier sorts. And I'm really curious how you play cards." He grinned at her. "It tells of a lot of one's personality."

And so they played cards for a while before Gilraen finally took her leave to head back to the citadel before any family member would miss her.

* * *

And again, please let me know what you think in a review or a PM :) The next chapter is coming... tomorrow night? Because I haven't even added it to Doc Manager yet which means some edit time for me now... Anyway, it'll be Chapter 9 - At Home (that's the title currently, but I might just change it when I'm doing the revising)


	12. Chapter 9 - At Home

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

I did a lot of editing last night, because, you'll never guess, I was supposed to be studying, and I love doing various things, like editing, cleaning, cooking, talking on the phone, feeding the dogs, checking my mail etc when I'm supposed to be studying. So here is the new chapter.

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**AT HOME**

"… Miriel and Valyrien. You and me and Elboron and Florian. That's 10. We'll meet at 3 o'clock at the stables." Eldarion finished chewing on a slice of ham.

"Must we ride out?" Sybille complained pouting. "You know, brother, I so hate riding out. We could just go to the gardens."

"It's fine with me, but it'll be you who sends word to everybody then" Eldarion shrugged.

"And how comes Valyrien is coming with us?" Sybille teased playfully.

"Valyr's got pretty auburn hair. And a pretty shape too. I'm sure she's a soft thing to take into my lap" Eldarion chuckled.

"I heard she was already promised to someone…" Sybille blinked under long fair lashes.

"So? I have no mind to steal her away. I'm sure she'll be a good wife to this someone." Her brother said in a tone that gave away the rest of the sentence easily enough. _After I've had my fun with her. _

Gilraen shifted in her seat and did her best to concentrate on her lembas bread and churned butter. She wanted to know of her brother and sister's fun as little as possible, though Sybille's gossiping made that rather difficult. After each _fun_ afternoon Sybille told stories of what happened for hours. How much clothing each person lost, how much they drank, who they kissed and the rest. One time she was even forced to listen to a monologue about Florian's well built torso and about how regrettable it was that he and Sybille would not be married and have their wedding night for another year. Because, as both of them knew full well, despite all the game and their friendship, Eldarion would surely geld Florian, or anybody else, without a second thought if he dared to go farther than kissing and flirting with his precious sister.

Brianneth beside Gilrean was listening to Eldarion and Sybille's conversation so eagerly she forgot her meal while Aryana sulked for one reason or the other. The king and queen were not having breakfast with their children this time, so Eldarion and Sybille were practically taking their place having all the attention and authority.

"And what do you all plan for today, little sisters?" Sybille gave a glowing smile to Brianneth and Aryana.

"I am punished. I guess all I can plan for today is which corner of my bedchamber to stare at." Her youngest sister blurted making a face at Sybille.

"Aryana, stop that" Eldarion gave her a cool look. He was one of the only two who Aryana listened to. The other was their father.

"I am planning to meet some friends! We'll have a tea and play some games. Only, I have some lessons before that" Brianneth confided cheerfully.

"That sounds so splendid!" Sybille smiled with shining eyes. "What games will you play?"

"Oh, I don't know yet. Whatever comes to our mind. You know, there's one when you peel an apple and drop the peeling into water and it'll give the first letter of your beloved's name. That one, we'll play, for sure."

"Oh, I so love that game! When we played that with Gilraen both of us got letter C. And at that time there was a very handsome young man named Cerwon in our music group." Sybille giggled.

"And you, sweet Gilraen? You'll have your lessons, study and go to bed after dinner?" Eldarion blinked at Gilraen innocently.

Gilraen gave a stiff smile and pretended she never noticed the mockery in his face and voice. _Sweet… _There was only one person who could call her that and it was certainly not her brother. She sucked back a grimace. "Would I disappoint you, brother?"

"How could you?" Eldarion gave a laugh and helped himself to more pheasant and lembas bread.

Breakfast went on for another fifteen minutes, but Gilraen only played with the food in front of her. She completely lost her appetite and when the time came to depart and head for the Academy, the prospect of lessons almost came as a relief. And while the masters spoke of history, lands, poems, songs, instruments Gilraen wondered how she got so distant from Eldarion and Sybille.

Back at the time when Florian courted her sister in secret, they were still close. Or closer than now. She helped Sybille to make her hair and to pick a dress on the days they knew they'd meet the youth. And when she finally managed to convince her sister that their father would not bite off her head for falling in love with their brother's childhood friend, Sybille still insisted that Gilraen accompanied her and made sure their father would not be wroth.

And from then on Sybille spent all her days with Florian and when she didn't, she hanged out with Eldarion (who was with Florian). Gilraen still refused to take part in the Whoever wins may steal a kiss or confess a crush games. She had no crush to confess and would not kiss people she was sick of. And then came the whole business with suitors. Why she had nobody, why she was rude, why she couldn't be like Sybille. Seasoned with the constant threats about _I'll have to choose a consort for you if you don't like anybody, even though you are free to fall in love, provided that you do so with one I see fit, at a time I see fit, and in a way I see fit_.

Since she… got closer to Torundir than she was supposed to, things got even worse in a way. In another way, he was her solace. He made her laugh, he made her feel less wretched about herself, he made her happy and he never made her pretend she was her sister. On the other hand, the previously meaningless threats became her greatest fears. Previously, she never cared about being married off, previously she would not have minded, but if they wedded her to someone now, that'd mean the end of her affair with Torundir.

After her lessons, she made her way for the library and collected another three two inches thick books she'd have to read for her exams. Passing the hallway back to her bedchamber she heard Aryana's puppy whining under her bed, probably from hunger, and her sister trying to sooth him. Gilraen packed down her books and returned to her sister's door.

"Aryana, let me in!" she knocked.

"I'm studying! Leave me!"

"Really? I thought you were barking."

She finally opened the door to that.

"What do you want, Gilraen?"

"Please let me in. We must talk." She gave Aryana a meaningful look and her sister stood aside with a grimace.

"This can't go on, Aryana, what if Mother passed the corridor and not me? That dog needs air and food and freedom. You can't lock it up here."

"I know. I want to take him out. Into the garden, I just need to figure out how Mother won't notice. And then I'll take him out. I know this is bad for him, but he's so little, I can't throw him out into the streets, you know."

"You mean how Mother will not notice a noisy, hungry puppy in her gardens, digging out her flowers, shitting all over her grass, catching her singing birds? That'll take a while to figure out. The dog must leave. The room's already starting to smell of dogshit."

"You just made that up! I air the room every day. And you can't tell me what to do! I'll keep him here, if I want to. What'll you do then, go and tell on me like Sybille and Brianneth would?" Aryana snapped sneering and flushing red with anger as bent down to get the puppy from under her bed. It was a sweet dog, brown with white ears and white spot around his tail.

"You'll be caught stealing food and they'll search your room, find the dog and throw it off the hill. It'll be heard barking and scratching and they'll search your room, find the dog and throw it off the hill. It'll die of starvation and they'll smell the odor, find the dog and make you throw it off the hill." By the time Gilraen finished Aryana was in tears. She felt sorry for her, but she had to make her understand, for her own sake.

"So what do you say? That I should throw him out to the street? Toss him back where it came from?" her sister spat out angrily.

"We can try and find him somewhere to stay. Not in the palace." She added before Aryana brightened. "Somewhere else."

It took Gilraen an hour to convince her sister to part from the dog and trust it to her to find a place for it. Then it took another three hours to arrange for the dog to be removed from the palace and delivered to its new and better place of residence. Then she returned to her books to spend the remaining time till dinner reading. When dinnertime came she decided she would just go on reading and spare herself Eldarion and Sybille's comments on how she never did anything but sit in her room reading.

But the maid she sent to excuse her from supper returned with her mother at her heels. The queen looked gracefully grim and angry as she usually did of late when she talked to Gilraen.

"Gilraen."

"Mother" her mother's arrival took her utterly unawares. She rose to greet her.

"So now you'll not even come and dine with your family, let alone any poor youth who would court you. Is that the way of it, dear?"

That was one creepy thing about her mother. She smiled her charming smile while she scolded them. Only Aryana could make her anger human. With the rest of them she always remained the graceful elven queen she was never lowering to show her ungraceful feelings, such as wrath, irritation and distaste.

"No, of course not. I do beg your pardon if it appears so. I was just so lost in a book, you yourself always say how one can loose oneself in a good—"

"I do understand the joy of reading. But I also understand politeness and respect for one's family, which you, my dear, do not seem to comprehend. You are not a little child anymore to eat any time you wish, you are a young maiden, a young princess to be more specific who is expected to adjust to certain norms and habits. And it is a habit of daughters to eat supper with their families once asked to. Finding excuses to hide from the world and escape your family is the habit of simpleton children who do not wish to admit their wrongdoings." Her mother glared at her with a smile hiding in the corner of her lips.

"I apologize, Mother. I promise I'll never do such again."

"All right, then. And now, please be so kind and come with me, so we can forget about this ill fitting nuisance."

Gilraen knew better than to protest so she followed her mother who went on about how improperly and disrespectfully she was dressed for a family dinner on their way to the dining hall. There she listened to her father's scolding and Eldarion's comments and Sybille's accusing grimaces. An hour later she went back to her bedchamber and lied down on her bed exhausted wishing for a better day to come with the morning.

It didn't. The next day started off as grey and as suffocating as the one before. Gilraen spent the whole day studying and wondering why in Heaven's name she was supposed to study. When she felt she couldn't take more she decided to go to the gardens and seek out Sybille. She badly needed some company. Her sister was just returning from her walk with two handmaids at her heels.

"Gilraen! Are you going to the gardens? Mother and Lady Éowyn and the girls are still there."

"And you? You already left?"

"Yes! I'm going for a walk with Florian."

"Oh, I see. Well then I'll just go back…" Gilraen gave her a smile. Of course Sybille would be spending her time with Florian… But she was not going to the gardens to chat with her mother and the Lady Éowyn about how she refused all her suitors.

"Aren't you going to the gardens?"

"No, I just thought I'd talk to you, but if you are leaving I'll go back and we'll talk some other time." She explained hastily, before her sister would have a mind to escort her to their mother.

"Well, you know… if you just accepted some young man to court you, you could go for a walk with him too, instead of sitting here all day." Sybille said with a look that was half accusing, half apologetic.

Gilraen's nostrils flared. _Why _did she even want to speak with her?

"I'm fine thank you. Have a nice time with Florian." She gave her a stiff smile and rushed off.

Gilraen bit her lip in frustration. Why did Sybille always have to talk about how lonely and wretched she was? Why couldn't they just talk with ever getting to the topic of her and her suitors. The worst of it was that her sister had the right of it. She _was _lonely and she wished she could go for a walk with someone too. Yet she had someone in some way. And Torundir was everything she could ever wish for. She missed him.

The man was still in her thoughts when she got back to her parlor to resume reading and almost knocked over the straw haired lad waiting for Her Highness right next to the door.

"Your Highness, forgive me." He apologized at once.

"It was my fault." Gilraen shook her head. The boy's awkward behavior always made her uncomfortable, but his visits usually brought word of Torundir so she was always more than happy to see him too.

"Your Highness. I have brought a letter to Your Highness. If it please Your Highness." He handed the scroll over.

Gilraen gave him a grateful smile and unrolled it.

_Bad news, princess. Some bloody dolt lost the accounts of the Academy so they called in for mine. And they spotted in a second that you never had a field lesson. Because I was dolt enough not to fake it into my accounts too. So you'll receive an official letter from the Academy under my name that you must recover the shortfall as soon as possible. Question is when you want to recover it. And my apologies, I promised you wouldn't have to go to the field. But we'll make it as passable as possible. And I have plans to compensate you._

Gilraen blinked. Field lesson was the last thing she wanted. But at least it was riding out, not rotting with books. She sat down to the table and wrote a short reply and sent it back with the squire. And she'd finally see Torundir.

* * *

Yeah... that was is. Please let me know what you think in a review or send me a PM, I'd love to know your opinions.

Chapter 10 - April Showers is coming soon. I do not own that title, Tom Garrigus and Michael Crichton should be the ones doing so, it's the title of an ER episode.


	13. Chapter 10 - April Showers

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Here's the new chapter. I don't own the title. It belongs to Michael Crichton and Tom Garrigus (writer of the ER episode with the same title). This is one of my favorite chapters, actually. Also, I do not own the song _Rocky Road, _the movie Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows does. _The Rains of Castamere_ belongs to George R. R. Martin, while the song _Loverly_ is owned by the movie My Fair Lady,

* * *

Gilraen received the official letter just an hour before dinner. It said she should recover the missing lesson on Friday that is two days hence. Even though Torundir wrote she could go whenever she wanted, Friday seemed more than apt, since it would spare her the Friday night supper with her family at Lord Malberen's, who lately seemed to feel obliged to feast the royal family every fortnight in gratitude for accepting his son as a consort for a royal princess.

Surprisingly, her mother didn't care much about the matter, she gave her a couple of hard looks, but Lord Malberen's feasts were about Sybille and even the queen could not deny that her presence was too indifferent to be missed. And it was Academy business she would go on, so they could not even accuse her of willing missing the feast.

Sybille was rather upset about the idea of her absence, but only because she believed Gilraen actually regretted she couldn't go. And Gilraen saw no reason to disappoint her telling otherwise, so her sister assured her that they'd tell her everything when they arrived home. As for her brother and father, she was almost sure that it would take half of the feast for the two to realize she wasn't there.

Thus when two days later her sister was having her bath and her satin underwear prepared, Gilraen donned a simple riding outfit and a cloak, her handmaid, Mirawell insisted on - mid-April weather was cold, windy and unpredictable, she claimed. Stepping out of the palace she saw the right of it at once. The day was grey, dark clouds gathered above the White City and swallowed the horizon erasing even that little spirit she had for an on-the-field hunting lesson. Gilraen grimaced and headed down to the sixth level and the royal stables.

"Good day, Your Highness, please mount so we can be back from this thrice damned weather as soon as possible and I can have my lunch" Torundir greeted her with a knowing grimace.

"That'll be most welcome, my lord." She nodded and they were riding off at once.

"Sweetheart, apologies for this ordeal, if I learn who mislaid the fucking accounts, I'll throttle him with my own hands."

"It doesn't matter, really. It's been a while since my last lesson." Gilraen gave a smile.

"Even the weather is like two-day ent shit. Damp, cold and grey…"

"Ents shit?" she raised an eyebrow grinning and Torundir made a face smirking at her.

"Whatever. So, my sweet, we'll just ride around, fly an arrow or two, lose the hawk and if we are lucky enough to see a bloody rabbit which hasn't yet hid from the storm, we'll call it a day and come back" he explained as they rode out of the city gate.

It took close two hours to find a rabbit. In the meanwhile the hawk refused to fly off in the savage wind and shooting arrows was practically impossible. The sky was getting darker, the wind colder and once he caught sight of the hare, Torundir called an end to the excursion.

"Bloody hell, let's get back before you freeze and I starve to death"

Riding back Gilraen wondered if wind could actually blow off one's head, for it was already sure wind could tear a travelling cloak into two. They were already riding for the gate when it started raining, it began as a drizzle but every drop was thicker and quicker than the one before.

"You'll eat with me, sweetest, won't you?" Torundir glanced back at her as he trotted through the cityfolk running from the streets for shelter. Gilraen nodded with a smile and the man spurred his stallion towards the closest tavern.

"Here?" Gilraen was stunned. "Won't they know me? How could I walk in there with you?"

"Folks in that inn wouldn't recognize the king if he walked amidst them with crown on his head. And with that messy hair and torn cloak, who could tell you are you?" he gave her a smug grin and Gilraen instinctively reached for her tangled locks as if she could brush them out with her fingers in the sprinkling rain. When Torundir saw her motion he shook his head in objection. "That was a compliment. This just-down-from-the-saddle windblown look of yours makes me rock hard" He said with a dark smirk.

Torundir gave their horses to a serving boy and taking her hand led the way into the tavern.

The place was crowded beyond imagination, cityfolk and foreigners, men and women, young and old all gathered in the candle lit common room. Their chatter and laughter drowned out the pounding rain on the roof and windows. Some were dirty, some soaking wet, some people ate, others just talked but everybody was drinking. Torundir was guiding her to an empty table when the landlord hurried up to them; Gilraen did have a muddy and torn cloak around her neck, but Torundir looked a lord every bit even despite the mud on his boots and cloak and innkeeps never failed to notice the smell of coin.

"A pint of ale, m'lord?" he offered with a smile of crooked and rotting teeth.

"Mulled wine. And food. Whatever you have" Torundir nodded.

"Duck, m'lord. And mulled wine. For the missy too, aye?" he wobbled back to the counter and yelled for the kitchen boys.

"Come on, missy" Torundir grinned at her and they sat down.

"You know this place?" Gilraen asked resuming her observation.

"I've been here once" he shrugged, but never said more as a fat woman appeared with a large roasted duck with a knife in its back and two mugs of steaming wine. Gilraen tasted the drink.

"Uh, it's strong" she blinked wrinkling her forehead. "But finally warm"

"And well spiced" Torundir added and tore off one leg of the duck.

Gilraen found she was hungrier than she thought. They finished the bird in half an hour while they talked, sipped the wine and listened to other conversations. Outside the rain kept falling heavily and inside the men kept drinking heavily. A group of fishermen were already chanting a song about a drunken sailor as they had their cups refilled. Gilraen smiled incredulously at the rhymes as she watched them.

"You don't know that song?" Torundir asked her.

"I don't know any of these songs" she shook her head peeking at the group of singers preparing to perform by the fireplace.

"What you all miss up there in the citadel" he teased, but Gilraen had to agree.

The music started and never again seemed to end. Drinking songs, travelling songs, songs of strolling plays with the liveliest melodies Gilraen ever heard. In half an hour the whole inn was singing with them _On the rocky road to _(they always inserted a different place)and _All I want is a room somewhere_, a love-kind-of song which seemed to turn on every male customer in the tavern. One of them, a groggy and aging commoner with the stink of a pig wobbled up to their table and sniffed at Gilraen.

"Won' ya lend me your missy a li'l, m'lord?" he offered Torundir with a toothless grin.

"Piss off" the man told him raising a dark glace at the ragged fellow.

"Poor me meant no harm, m'lord... only wanted some fun for meself…!" the drunkard objected licking at his dirty mouth, eying Gilraen hungrily. "The missy seems fun enough"

Gilraen felt Torundir's hand on her wrist as she drew back from the old man in disgust. His other hand moved quicker than a lightning bolt and the next second his death sharp dagger was pointing at the ragged commoner's gut.

"I said. Piss off" he repeated in a dangerously low voice. Around them a few tables fell silent, the singer woman, clearly worried to lose the night's income to a tavern fight rushed up and dragged off the drunkard, "Pardons m'lord, he's drunk, this one. Won' harass you again". The man retreated with her murmuring thanks into her ears.

Gilraen stared wide eyed with a half amused half stunned expression frozen onto her face as Torundir took her hand and pulled her up guiding her into his lap, putting away his knife. He kissed her cheek giving her a reassuring squeeze and Gilraen finally burst out laughing and took a gulp from her mug.

"You saw that?" she turned to the man drawing an arm around his shoulder. "He took me for a tavern wench. Do I look like one? Do I blend in?" she eyed him eagerly.

"You, my sweet? You look nothing like a tavern wench. You are too overdressed for a start" he said and with one swift motion tore off the neck of her dress down to the bodice so it left most of her shoulders and her cleavage bare. She gasped in surprise but Torundir silenced her with a kiss before she could say a word. "Much better" he murmured huskily into her ears nuzzling against her bare shoulders. "Though you are still too sophisticated for a wench, sweetling. But I have no mind to change something I so like about you"

"I could do the accent" Gilraen blinked at him with mirth.

"What accent?"

"Er… I grew up in them streets with only me bro'er ab'ut me. 'Course I has an accen'. M'lord never 'eard such in them pompous castles, did ya?"

Torundir roared with laughter. "Oh fucking hell. My sweet little tavern wench." His fingers dug into her thighs as he captured her lips. Gilraen's hands ran up his chest and fondled his neck and upper back while the man's other hand found her buttocks. Only, loud laughter from a nearby table interrupted them and Gilraen turned around to see the source of the mirth.

"What are they doing?" she asked at the sight of four drunken guardsmen guffawing.

"Playing. Lying game. They all boast with incredible stories but the others mustn't be sure it's a lie. Whoever wins gets the next round free. And on it goes."

"… I commanded a hundred men in a battle!" a short black haired one cried.

"And I nailed a hundred wenches after a battle" said his neighbor.

"I fucked the queen for all the good on Arda!" another shouted and Gilraen burst out laughing, eyes wide in surprise. She buried her face into Torundir's chest to muffle her giggles who whispered into her ear hoarsely.

"Would I win, if I told them I fucked the princess?"

"I don't think so" she shook her head grinning. "You just told me it was a game of _lies_."

They drank to that. The wine was very strong and Gilraen already felt a little light in the head. The singers kept up the music, some wenches already danced with those not too drunk to move. It was not the citadel kind of dance, proper and courteous, rather the typical tavern dance, prancing around, flirting, drumming with the feet, clapping. Joyful and lively. Gilraen dangled her legs for the rhythm of the music while they went on kissing, drinking and whispering to each other.

The tavern never quite seemed to be at rest. Soon enough two men were thrown out in the rain, because they started a fight. The guests of the inn laughed at them from inside and the singers played _The Rains of Castamere_, paying no mind to the fact that Rains in the song did not actually refer to _rain_ as in water falling from the sky. When Gilraen told that to Torundir he said the singers were already too drunk to tell the difference. One simple rule that applied to all taverns; the reason for anything amiss is drunkenness. The event was eventually rather beneficial for the innkeep because everybody decided they'd have another drink before they went home in the storm.

"I have no idea how _I_ will go home" Gilraen noted musing.

"It's still far too early for that, sweetest. Malberen is still serving dessert."

"Some delicious dessert, which takes long to eat, I hope" Gilraen agreed.

"You want some dessert too?" Torundir asked her and she raised an eyebrow at him smirking. "Or if you don't, you can be my delicious dessert, sweetheart, huh?"

Her giggle turned into a surprised squeal as Torundir hoisted her up flinging her over his shoulder and tossed a silver coin at the fat landlady. "Give me a room!"

"The first on the right, m'lord" she said with an ugly grin biting on the coin.

Torundir then slid a hand up her back and brought her down from his shoulder, spooning her body with both arms which made Gilraen's position far more comfortable and far more fall-proof. Half the tavern was whooing after them as they ascended the stairs and turned into the first room on the right.

Torundir kicked the door shut and practically threw Gilraen onto the bed. All she could do was grin and giggle as he struggled his boots off and climbed on top of her silencing her with a suffocating kiss. She had no idea if it was the spirit of the tavern night or the wine in both of them, but Torundir was even more forceful and demanding than usual which she enjoyed even more than usual.

Gilraen's hands found the man's jerkin during the never ending wrestle of their lips and started peeling it off of him while he tugged her skirts up and his breeches down. Heat crept up her inner thighs at his touch and he gave a pleased smirk once his hands found her wet after long minutes of impatient struggle with her underwear.

"So ready for me, sweetheart?" Torundir murmured into her ears as he kissed his way up her neck leaving the ivory skin red and burning with bliss.

"Always ready for you" she breathed back and soon they were tangled in each other's body amidst the sound of their grunts and moans.

"Scream for me, princess" Torundir growled into her ears as they closed to the end. And so she did, bliss erupting from every joint and muscle of her body, sparks running up and down her spine scarcely hearing the man crying out her name before he collapsed onto her.

After ten silent and motionless minutes of afterglow he rolled over to kick off the breeches around his knees and laced Gilraen out of her bodice. Without a word he pulled her into his arms covering themselves into the rough linen covers and gave her the longest, most tender kiss they ever shared. Gilraen curled up against him with a content sigh.

"I hope m'lord found dessert satisfactory enough" she smiled up at the man with a twinkle.

"More than satisfactory, m'lady" he replied warmly.

"You see, how lucky it was they mislaid the accounts at the Academy?" Gilraen traced down the thin scar under his chest.

"Hah, aye." Torundir chuckled. "I never thought I'd be grateful for it" Gilraen could not help but smile at that closing her eyes.

"I could fall asleep right here" she mumbled.

"Then do."

"What? Torundir, if my parents—"

"Your parents are stuck at Malberen's. Hear that pounding sound against the roof? It's _rain._ He won't let them leave in a storm and the King is not a fool to refuse his offer. It's a great honor to host the royal family, it'll make Malberen's day."

"What will I tell the maids?" Gilraen bit her lips.

"Whatever you want. Maids are stupid."

"Ah… Torundir…" she gave an incredulous chuckle.

"What? Aren't they? Besides it's not advisable for you to get soaked either. And we have never slept together yet. And you don't want to spoil our dessert. Gilraen? Stay." He stroked away a tuft of golden hair and kissed her brow fondly.

After that she knew she stood no chance denying him anything. And he had the right of it after all. She could say the maids she was stuck at a friend or at the Academy or anywhere…

"All right" she gave in and watched as the smile of happiness spread across his face.

It wasn't much time before he was atop her again, but this time was slow and gentle. Almost as gentle as their first time, full of emotion and unsaid understanding. And Gilraen found herself enjoying it just as much as their usual way, just like the man seemed to do.

Shortly afterwards she was lying in Torundir's arms' again, her head rested against his chest, struggling to keep her eyes open as she listened to him.

"…but this was far the best night I've had in many years. Are you tired, sweetling?"

"Yeah... But I'm happy it was your best night. It was mine too…" She felt him smile against her head.

"Then have the best sleep now, my little sweetheart" he kissed her cheek and turned to blow off the candle at the bedside.

"Good night!" she whispered and fell into the sweetest, deepest, happiest sleep she had in ages with Torundir's voice in her ears, his scent in her nostrils and his arm around her waist.

* * *

Oh yeah, how sweet is that? (As I said this is one of my favorite chapters, even though I had to edit to keep it M rated) Well, by the way, this was rather bold. Not spending the night at home... :O Reviews, PMs, questions and comments are welcome, as always :)

Next we'll have Chapter 11 - Afterwards


	14. Chapter 11 - Afterwards

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Goodness, I haven't revised a thing yet. I should seriously do some studying. *and so she decides to update* Here is a new chapter.

* * *

**AFTERWARDS**

"Gilraen" A gentle voice called at her. "Gilraen!" Torundir touched her shoulder.

"Mmm, what?" she moaned half asleep.

"Get up."

"Just a moment" she mumbled into the pillow and was already halfway dozing off again.

"The moment is over, it's first light, you must get home."

Gilraen muttered a curse and tried to gather her strength to sit up.

"Come on!" Torundir pulled at her shoulder turning her to face him.

"You have no heart" she muttered sleepily.

"Yes, I do" he chuckled. "And I love you with all of it, but you must get up nonetheless."

Gilraen blinked at him, alert at once. "You do?" she asked not yet daring to believe her ears.

He chuckled again. "What? Love you? Sweetheart, there are intelligent women, beautiful women and sweet natured women. You are all three combined. You are so special, so amazingly sweet and gentle, so desirable… How _could_ I not love you?" he bent down to kiss her and Gilraen pulled herself up holding onto his shoulders.

"I love you too." She said utterly touched by his words.

"I know" Torundir smiled at her fondly and embraced the small frame of her body.

"I love you" she mumbled into his neck. "So much, I'll even get up for you" she grinned up at him with a playful twinkle and he tossed the remains of her dress at her laughing.

They trotted up till the gate of the fifth level where Gilraen dismounted to evade unwanted attention. Torundir took over the reins and promised to tend to her mare at the stables. They said their goodbyes and the man made her promise he'd see her soon before he finally rode on.

Gilraen hurried up the spiral of the Main Street with frequent glances behind her back. The street was still wet from the night's storm and even servants were rare in the yards, the whole city was still sleeping. She met a party of three kitchen boys carrying flour for some lord's, possibly Malberen's morning bread. She reached the Citadel gate without anybody stopping or even recognizing her. The two men standing guard to the Citadel gate were examining their mud soaked boots, cursing the rain in low, sleepy voices when Gilraen reached them. She gave a sympathetic smile and commented on the nasty storm. The guards bowed to her and agreed without giving a second thought to what the crown princess was doing in the city at daybreak.

The palace was still sleeping too. She encountered a couple of yawning grooms heading for the kitchens as she entered through the hind gate not daring to risk taking the way through the throne room. Otherwise the whole palace was empty. Gilraen slipped into her bedchamber and stirred up the fire her maids prepared for the night she eventually spent elsewhere. She was still tired, but getting into bed alone after last night felt absurd. Gilraen walked over to the window and let in some of the pre morning breeze drifting the smell of fresh rain and cold stone. She inhaled the scents and reflected on the night. It was wrong. She knew well. Torundir knew it too. But they stopped caring about that long time ago. Last night was probably the best night of her whole life. She did not want to spoil the memory of it by going into deep consideration about the moral soundness of being happy.

Once the flames in the hearth were alive, Gilraen got rid of her torn undershift and threw it into the fire. The fabric almost tenderly blackened behind the curtain of red and orange sparks. Another memory of their relationship being turned to ashes. Like his letters. Gilraen turned her gaze from the flames and pulled on a night gown. She left the room to wake the handmaids and call for a bath.

After an hour in a tub of steaming water and a short chat about the awful storm and people stuck in the buildings they sought shelter in for half the night, Gilraen emerged from her chambers in clean robes with no trace of suspicion left behind of her whereabouts.

The rest of the week passed with exams. Hunting, Singing and Poetry. The latter two were fairly all right, she could sing and her Poetry tutor liked her exam poem about death and killing. Of Hunting, she was terrified. It was not for her, she never had interest for animals, wild animals at least, she was unable to memorize how doe trace looked and she had no idea about what she could write into an essay on _Her thoughts of Hunting_, a title Lord Erandur made up. In the end, she just wrote about how the life of game and hunters were no different from life at court. After writing her essay she had to sit with Lord Erandur and answer questions directly. Gilraen found the whole situation utterly weird and absurd. She was sitting in front of Lord Erandur who acted as though he was having an afternoon tea and Torundir who looked as though he was about to cut everybody into pieces. Gilraen was the sixteenth person he had to put idiotic questions to about hunting, _as if hunting could be taught from fucking books._ They did the pleasantries and Torundir, by some unexplainable happenstance, asked her the exact same questions he himself answered just a few weeks before, back in his bed. She remembered the answers and Lord Erandur noted how well she did and Torundir commented on the honor of tutoring a princess.

She spent the afternoon with Sybille and her friends discussing their results until the girls' suitors arrived to take them for a walk. Not soon after she was left alone, Torundir's squire walked up to her with a folded parchment.

_Congratulations to Your Highness on the successful exam. I'd have a word with you. In half an hour at the practice hall, please. _

So in half an hour she was standing in the practice hall, deep in thought waiting for the man to arrive. How many hours she spent shooting arrows here, or tending a hawk, or just trying to ride properly… Most of the straw around the walls was gone, it was spring, it wasn't needed anymore. And everybody was going to the practice field to train now. The gloomy stone hall was empty and left alone for another 7 month, until new young ladies arrived to learn the arts of Hunting. Gilraen stared at one specific square of the wall with the remains of a straw bale just in front of it and wondered if anybody else lost their innocence here. It was strange how it all ended now. She would never come here again.

"There you are. _At_ the practice hall is not _in_ the practice hall." Torundir arrived.

"I wasn't going to stand in front of it like some idiot." Gilraen gave a small smile and walked up to him. "That exam… that you asked what you knew I would know—"

"I did hope you'd remember."

"Thank you, Torundir."

"No need to thank. You deserved it." He nodded.

"Deserved it? Because I slept with you or what? You always said I'd be terrible at hunting" Gilraen looked at him puzzled.

"No, Gilraen, I'll not give a free exam to anybody, not even if she's the King's daughter or if she sleeps with me or both, when she doesn't deserve it. You worked hard. Harder than most of my learners, because I always strained you more than my other learners. But you never complained, you never objected, you always did what I asked or did your best to do what I asked. And you ended up riding fairly well and even your bow work is not hopeless."

"Thank you." She said again.

"There's no need to thank me. We need to talk about what happens now. You have no more lessons, we have no more excuse to see each other." His face was expressionless.

Gilraen stared at him. She never thought the end of her lessons would be the end of their affair too. Well, at the beginning she never thought their affair would mean anything to him apart from men's needs and entertainment, but it's been a while since back then. Since back then she thought it would somehow not shatter into nothing from one moment to the other.

"If you want it to be over—"

"Just shut up about what I want!" he cut her across. "The question is what you want. If we go on, it won't be like it was. It'll be harder, much harder. You'll have to risk much more. Would it be worth it for you to risk much more?"

She opened her mouth, but no words came out. What was she supposed to say? Their relationship meant the world to her. She was happy near him. So happy, finally happy again. It was the only thing she ever really wanted and she'd risk anything for it. But if he wouldn't… But yes, he would. He always said so…

"I'm…" Gilraen choked on the words. She was being ridiculous. She lifted her head and looked straight into his eyes. "I'll risk anything I need to."

"I hoped you'd say that." He nodded. "Because you are worth risking anything too, you know that, Your Sweetness?" he lifted her face and looked deep into her eyes.

Gilraen stood on tip toes to encircle his neck and give him a touched, relieved, fond kiss.

"Well, what will we do?" she asked him.

"Write. Whenever you have an hour of free time, I want to know of it at once and I'll try to arrange to be free too. When you are at the Academy, you'll come to see me. We'll figure it out somehow" the man said kissing her forehead. "I must be off now."

"Write, then" Gilraen smiled at him as she watched him turn and leave. They just signed their death-warrants. But he wanted her! He wanted her as much as she wanted him. She couldn't help but feel happy about that.

Torundir wrote her almost every day and whenever Gilraen had lessons or exams at the Academy, she always sought out his chamber so they could talk at least. More than talking was harder to arrange. Gilraen never knew she was so busy. Torundir had the council, his household errands, family business, learners, the Academy, but she? One would think a princess has time. Once again, Gilraen was disappointed in being a princess. She either had tea with her mother, or had a lesson, or another exam, or a visitor, or something with Sybille, or family dinner. Visiting Torundir only panned out once, when Gilraen's Music exam was called off and the man had no council meeting either. And the new set-up changed their relationship more than either of them ever expected.

Torundir was jealous of everything and everyone Gilraen spent more time with than in his own company. He always wanted her around and the very idea of Gilraen getting courted enraged him. And she came to realize that the more she risked to be with him, the less she cared about the consequences. She often wondered at night how long they were going to last, but decided to dismiss the thought every time she reached a conclusion she didn't like. At least they both agreed it was worth all the trouble. Being together, in a sexual way, became rough and wild, an elemental, animal instinct, while everything else, just talking and holding each other's hand, became tender and loving beyond comprehension. Gilraen never grew tired of soothing his jealousy and he never grew weary of telling her he'd do anything for her. Whatever was between them, a relationship, a love affair (they couldn't find the right word) it was deepening day by day and Gilraen felt helplessly engulfed in the feelings she had for him. And no matter what her better judgment said, she never wanted to help all those feelings. She loved loving him, she loved being loved by him.

* * *

So that was it, please review or send a PM or anything if you want to share your opinions with me. :)

Next chapter will be some serious shit, Chapter 12 - Sybille Gone. That needs to ring some bells (in case you read Prologue) :))


	15. Chapter 12 - Sybille Gone

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

So we reached Progloue. This chapter shows what was going on in Minas Tirith while Sybille was kidnapped. And just to clear things, in case somebody can't figure it out: We started off with Prologue and Introduction, simple linear time. Chapter 1 - The Beginning jumped back 3 months in time and now we arrived at the starting point again.

* * *

**SYBILLE GONE**

Gilraen was almost done with her exams by the end of the week and couldn't wait to finally be free of books and stuffing her head with unusable knowledge. Sybille left for the market in the morning to find some fabrics for the new dress she dreamed herself, so Gilraen sat alone in the garden bent over a thick copy of _Herbs and Greens of the Misty Mountains_. She wondered when it would come in handy knowing the three uses of mountain briar petals. Probably never. She skipped lunch and sent a maid to fetch her some food from the kitchen hoping she'd finish the book for next morning's exam. By three in the afternoon the prospect became fainter than the sunlight shining on the herbs and greens of the Misty bleeding Mountains.

"Gilraen, have you seen Sybille?" Eldarion walked up to him in clear irritation.

"Not since morning, why?"

"I just can't find her anywhere."

"Have you looked in her room? Or at the Academy?"

"Both and Florian hasn't heard of her all day either."

"That's weird." An uneasy feeling washed over her. Florian not hearing from Sybille for a whole day was something utterly unnatural. "I'll go check her room again. Maybe she's with Mother?"

"I'll check it, also with Brianneth and Aryana." Eldarion nodded and hurried off.

Twenty minutes later they were going down to the sixth level together to see if Sybille was at the Academy as Brianneth, Aryana and their Mother agreed on not seeing Sybille since morning.

"You found her?" Florian strode towards them.

"No. She's not in the Palace" Eldarion said his voice ringing with unease. "Have you looked at the Academy?"

"Yes and she's not there. Nobody even saw her there. I'll visit her friends." Florian was clearly worried. "Wasn't she in the gardens?"

"No, I was there all day and last time I saw her she was heading for the market." Gilraen shook her head biting her lips. This was all wrong, Sybille would not disappear like this. She was starting to get a very very bad feeling. "I'll go and look there."

"No, I already sent Elboron down" Florian shook his head and left them hurriedly.

"This is not right" her brother said in a dark voice.

"Where could she be?" Gilraen asked a knot tying in her belly.

"If I knew, I'd not be worried!" Eldarion snapped at her.

"As if I wasn't worried…" Gilraen muttered. "I'll have a look in the Citadel again." She left Eldarion and went off to walk through the whole palace, again, without any result. She met her sisters and her mother and told them they couldn't find Sybille. She just finished her second round around the Academy when Elboron and Florian returned, apparently without her sister, heading for the Citadel to find the king and queen.

Gilraen just stood and tried to think. She couldn't. She wanted to run to a hundred places at the same time, to look for Sybille, to find her. Sybille wouldn't disappear, she wouldn't run off, not on purpose. Something happened to her. Gilraen tried to stay calm but she only got more worried and more desperate and more afraid. Her sister could be hurt, or kidnapped, or raped or dead already. Gilraen couldn't restrain her fear flooding her heart anymore. She ran down to the fifth level to look for Sybille at her friends' homes. None of them heard a single word of the princess since last afternoon. She ran to Florian's home, but Lady Doriel had also no idea of her future daughter-in-law's whereabouts. Gilraen was on the edge of tears as ran back up to the stables in the faint hope that Sybille might have rode out. She hadn't. Gilraen had no more idea where to go. A young boy passed her with a practice sword in his hand, greeting her smiling and bowing. She scarcely heard him. She had never been so scared in her life. The boy came from practice. Gilraen turned around and ran to the practice hall.

"Torundir!" she found the man cleaning a blunted sword. He looked up at her in surprise. "Have you seen my sister?" she rushed up to him without greeting.

"Your sister..? Sybille? Where would I have seen her?" he raised his eyebrows puzzled.

"I don't know, you come and go all day, are you sure you haven't seen her?"

"No, I haven't seen her. What's wrong?" he asked sensing her panic.

"We can't find her. She went to the market in the morning with two handmaids and no-one has seen her ever since. We looked everywhere, at her friends', with Florian, at the Academy, down at the market, in the Citadel, in the stables, in the palace. Goodness, where is she?" Gilraen sputtered.

"You told the King?" Torundir asked at once.

"When I left we told my mother, I'm sure she informed him by now."

"Then they probably have Beregond the Guard of the Citadel looking for her by now." He assured her. "They'll find her. I'll have a look around the first level too. Nobody saw her maids either?"

"No. Where do you think she is? If something happened to her… I… she asked me to go with her, but I refused. She's my twin sister… It's been a little strained between us of late, I know, but she's still my sister. I can't lose her" A sob escaped her lips and she buried her face into the man's chest.

"Shhh, we'll find your sister" he drew an arm around her.

"If she came to any harm… I should have gone with her, I should have been there with her…"

"It wasn't your fault, Gilraen, don't blame yourself. If you were there with her, you'd be gone the same way she is. Don't wish that to me. We'll find her." He gave her a squeeze. "Go back to your family now, maybe they already know something. I'll look around."

Gilraen nodded and wiped off a tear running down her cheeks. She thanked him and went back to the Citadel where her father was giving orders to the Captains of Guards and Officers to start the search with a dark shadow over his face, eyes deep with concern. Her mother and Brianneth were standing together both pale with fear and even Aryana had an awkward worry in her eyes. Florian insisted Sybille was not in the White City anymore and asked for leave to go after her, he Eldarion and Elboron wanted to take 10 men each and ride North, East and West to catch up with anybody who abducted Sybille. Her father could not believe how Sybille could have been smuggled out of the city with all the guards on the walls and insisted on waiting until the City Guard searched every stone in Minas Tirith. Gilraen walked up to her mother and sister and watched the confrontation which was eventually interrupted by the arrival of the spy master, Lord Hirgon reporting a party of southron merchants arriving a week ago to sell spices who left the city an hour after Princess Sybille left for the market in the morning.

"Send twenty men after them at once" her father ordered. "Nobody found my daughter _within_ the city?"

"My King!" Lord Barahin came galloping through the gate with Torundir at his heels. As they slowed down, Gilraen saw what Torundir had behind his saddle. A limp motionless body covered in rough hessian. Her eyes widened in horror as she covered her shaking lips with her hands. Her father stood frozen waiting for the men to dismount. They lay the body on the ground and Barahin lifted the covers.

"She should be the maid who left with Princess Sybille" he said silently. "She was strangled with a rope."

"It's her" the queen croaked, her whole body shaking.

"Where did you find her?" the king glanced up from the corpse.

"In a back-ally, half buried, just one ally down from the market place, sire." Torundir said. "I left five men to look for the other one."

"What other one?" the king asked.

"There were two maids with the princess, no?" he asked back glancing over to where Gilraen stood with her mother and sisters.

"Yes, she left with two handmaids" her mother replied.

"Your Majesty, we think whoever did this, killed the maids and kidnapped the Princess." Lord Barahin proposed to her father.

Gilraen watched as every eye fixed upon the king. He waved at two guards to remove the body of the dead maid and turned back to Barahin and Torundir. "My lords, go back and find the other girl, it might give us some clue who might have taken my daughter. No. Only Torundir, his men are already there. Barahin, Finduras, Damrod, Horillion, Calanhir will each take ten soldiers and ride out. You too, Florian." He added before Florian could speak up. "Eldarion and Elboron, each of you will take twenty. Take hawks with you and send messages to the others if you find something. Everybody is to be back in two days time, twelve hours is not enough to take her any farther. Torundir, Horillion and all those with a family lands by the sea, send word that no Haradrim trader ships are allowed to leave. The riders are to set off in an hour."

The men nodded and bowed, yesmykinged and left. Gilraen bit her lip in worry. They must find her. All these men looking for Sybille, one of them must find her. She faintly sensed as she was escorted back to the palace with Brianneth and Aryana, while her father sent for Lord Faramir and her mother went with him.

Gilraen couldn't sleep a single minute that night.

She spent the next day with her mother and Brianneth who were just as shocked and terrified as she was. They scarcely spoke. When Aryana joined them and told she prayed to the heavens to give Sybille back safe and sound, because she needed a stupid big sister who would annoy her to hell with chatter about dresses and songs and boys, their mother burst into tears. Gilraen and Brianneth comforted her in Elvish for close twenty minutes while Aryana sat in sullen silence staring at a window.

She didn't sleep much during the following night either.

In the morning they resumed sitting in the garden and not talking. By noon they received word of Torundir rounding up the other maid's raped and stabbed body buried nearby the western mountain gate. In the evening Finduras, Elboron and Damrod returned with no result. Eldarion was still out, Barahin went after Florian and there was no word of the rest of them. Next morning Calanhir and Horillion returned too, having found no trace of the princess. Eldarion was back by nightfall, mad with fury and worry. He had supper with them, trying to comfort Brianneth and their mother, giving a reassuring hug to Gilraen, and went off to find their father of whose whereabouts only their mother seemed to know.

The third night was killing. Barahin and Florian still weren't back, they were the last hope Gilraen had, but with every passing day there was a thinner chance to find Sybille unharmed.

"She's back!" Brianneth bursted into her bedchamber just after daybreak. "Florian found her! They are coming back!"

Gilraen was positively shaking with relief, she got dressed in ten minutes and pulling on a thin satin cloak ran out into the Citadel yard. Brianneth was already there and in two minutes their parents arrived too, just when the sound of hoofs finally broke the taut, maddening silence. Lord Barahin rode up through the gate, followed by Florian with Sybille seated in front of him. She was smiling.

Her parents and Brianneth were already hurrying forward to Sybille, hugging her, asking if she was fine. Gilraen rushed up to her sister too and swept her into her arms.

"Oh, Sybille, thank goodness you are all right" she whispered. "We were so worried."

Sybille returned the hug and gave her a tired smile. "I'm fine. It's all thanks to my darling."

It turned out Sybille _was _kidnapped by the southron merchants, how they smuggled her out of the city though, she had no idea. She woke bounded in the back of a carriage, but her captors didn't hurt her claiming she had no value to their lord harmed. When she tried to speak, they beat her though and she lost consciousness again. In the end some elderly couple saved her. Florian and Lord Barahin found her with them. After she was finished with her story Sybille was taken to be bathed and examined by a healer who treated the bruises on her wrists and ankles and put some herb on the purplish spot on her cheekbone.

Gilraen spent the whole day beside Sybille's bed, who, upon their mother's order, was bathed, fed and put to bed in order to rest. Her sister chattered about everything that came to her mind and Gilraen felt warm relief washing over her every time Sybille came up with a topic she normally flee after one minute of discussion. But she didn't mind this time. The only thing that mattered was having Sybille safely back.

* * *

Yeah... Poor maids, by the way. Reviews or PMs or any other forms of commenting are welcome :)

And Chapter 13 - The Unexpected Visit is coming up ... tonight? I think so. Soon.


	16. Chapter 13 - The Unexpected Visit

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Update time, because my brain is getting strangled by linear regression and hypothesis testing...

* * *

**THE UNEXPECTED VISIT**

"Is your sister all right now?" Torundir asked Gilraen.

"Yes, thank goodness, she wasn't hurt. Thank you for everything you did for her." She replied taking a seat in the man's chamber at the Academy.

"You don't need to thank me, sweetheart, it is my duty."

"She's fine now. My mother wanted to keep her in bed for another day, but she insisted she's healthy and bored. She even had her last exam yesterday."

"That's good. She shouldn't linger on what happened." The man agreed giving her a fond smile.

"She's not that kind. Aryana is not on talking terms with her already and I listened to a Why don't you accept any suitor, Gilraen session too. So she's pretty much back to normal. But I'm happy for it" She shook her head with a smile.

"And you are done with your exams now, aren't you, sweet?"

"Yes, finally. We'll soon have the farewell feast..."

"I know, I'm supposed to attend too." He nodded. "Looking forward?"

"Torundir, do you have any idea what this feast will be like?" Gilraen twitched her mouth.

"The usual mating ritual?" his voice didn't conceal his feelings over the matter.

"Yes." Gilraen said carefully.

"You'll at least wear something low cut? So I can feast my eyes, if nothing else?" he offered with a wry grimace.

"I will" Gilraen promised with an apologetic smile.

"Any chance we can have some private time until then?"

"I don't know. I'll try. I miss you" she replied walking over to him.

"Please try, sweetest. I miss you too." He said taking her hand.

No matter how hard she tried the next few days were too busy. Guests arrived for their farewell feast, old friends of her father's, Legolas and Gimli and Gandalf, who still kept mixing up her and Sybille. And the one time she wasn't greeting guests, Torundir was dining with Barahin and his wife. That night she received a rather tipsy letter.

_Ever heard of a man drinking himself to death sweetling? Not me but they tell me it's possible. You be careful my sweet cause if I can't shag you very soon I might just drink myself to death from loneliness._

Gilraen shook with laughter for at least three minutes after she read the messy letter and assured Torundir in her reply she'd make sure it was worth staying alive if only he waited three more days.

She spent the next day with Sybille who could talk about nothing, but the upcoming feast. By nightfall Gilraen was so annoyed by her sister's different plots to get her together with any suitor, bedtime came as a blessing. Especially after the never ending dinner in company of Legolas, Gimli and Gandalf. The wizard seemed rather stern all evening, but Gimli made up for his lack of humour tenfold. Of all her father's friends, Gilraen always liked Gimli the most.

The morning of the farewell feast was bright and shiny, perfectly adjusting to Sybille's mood. Knowing no tiredness her sister was up early in the morning getting ready to leave for the Academy to collect her warrant. And she was going with Florian, about which she was so happy.

When Sybille left Gilraen fell back into her bed enjoying four complete minutes of silence before her handmaid arrived delivering her mother's message that she was to get up at once. It was all pointless, Gilraen knew full well. The warrant they were supposed to collect from the Academy needed the seal and signature of all tutors who taught them and Torundir would not arrive at the Academy until 11 o'clock to sign hers. She got up anyways and dressed. Her mother was waiting in the parlor.

"Gilraen, my dear, I'd have a word with you." Her mother smiled. It was just the kind of smile that foreshadowed some pretty deadly conversation.

"Of course, mother."

"It's about tonight, my dear. Your father and I think, now that your sister is safely back, that it is time to turn our attention to you. Among the guests there shall be many highborn youths who would all make a perfect consort for you. Now, you know so well we don't wish to force anything, but I think it is just a splendid occasion for you to meet these young men. To dance with them, to talk for a little, so that you'll get to know them. Your sister said it was a great idea and as the eldest princess of Gondor it is expected of you meet these youths. After all, one of them shall be your husband. It would make you feel rather awkward if Brianneth was betrothed _before_ you, would it not?" her mother gave her an encouraging smile.

Gilraen muscles stiffened. Her mother was literally _threatening_ her.

"I want you to be happy, and not embarrassed. But you need to make sacrifices to be happy. That's something you must never forget. I would like to ask you to take notice of your sister's example and heed her advice tonight, so you might just find happiness yourself. Will you do that, my dear?"

"Of course, mother." Gilraen replied through gritted teeth hid behind the fakest smile she ever wore.

"I'd not like to see you grim or rude tonight. Nor would your father. We have guests, we expect proper behavior from all of you. Do you understand my dear?"

"Of course, mother" Gilraen nodded and her mother rose and took her graceful leave.

When the door closed, Gilraen looked around the parlor to find something to smash against the wall. No breakable object was at sight. She rushed out of the room and made her way for the Academy.

She sat down onto the first bench she found and tried to calm herself. She would survive this night, she would please them as much as she had to and next day she'd meet Torundir, no matter what. She so missed him, she would have given anything to spend just one hour in his arms… _It should already be around 11_, Gilraen thought. She could soon go and fetch her warrant and at least see Torundir if no more.

"Sybille?" Gandalf was approaching her with a weird looking man and woman.

Gilraen raised an eyebrow at the wizard knowing he himself could not tell the difference between her and her sister, let alone two strangers. Gandalf didn't disappoint her.

"I'm not Sybille" she finally said with a stiff smile to the stranger woman.

"Of course not, forgive me milady" Gandalf did his best to make amends, but the words got caught in his throat as he slowly veered to face his companions. "You _know_ Sybille?"

"Yes, you know her too?" came the ridiculous reply. It was rather interesting to assume Gandalf didn't know Sybille. _Everybody_ knew Sybille. Even Gilraen was known _as_ Sybille.

"So you _came!_" the actual Sybille shrilled from the top of the stairs happily. "I'm so happy! I so hoped you would! And just in due time, we'll have a feast tonight, please be my guests as I was yours! Isn't it just splendid you visit?"

Gilraen lost track of the conversation around her and found she didn't care much from where her sister knew the strangers who kept staring at them as though they were some sort of wonder reborn to Middle Earth. It turned out they were the old couple who saved Sybille from the Southrons. The only mystery to remain was from where they knew Gandalf and how her sister was able to restrain herself from confiding she was a princess the moment she opened her eyes back at the Sirith. Sybille so loved being a princess...

"They didn't recognize me and I wasn't sure if I could trust them… They thought I was some highborn maid of Gondor." Her sister chattered.

_Why, aren't you?_, Gilraen wanted to ask. To Sybille, _princess_ seemed to mean some sort of _divine creature_ rather than _highborn lady._ She was perfection itself, Sybille was, and everybody else just a shadow existing only under her blazing splendor. It was Sybille's doing, at least partly, that ordeal expecting her tonight. She was still too irritated to think kindly of her sister.

"Well that's apparently not too far from the truth" Gandalf shook his head in disbelief "Highborn and of Gondor, but not just some maid. The _princess_ of Gondor."

Sybille squared her shoulders proudly and shot a radiant smile at the man and woman who stared at her dumbstruck. The woman even started crying as she watched Sybille. That was beyond ridiculous. Her sister was a not _that_ amazing to behold.

Gilraen couldn't restrain herself from commenting the scene "You move people so, sister."

"Oh, Gilraen!" Sybille snapped at her scowling. "What's wrong with you? They are nice people, why do you have to be so rude?"

Gilraen gritted her teeth as she caught sight of the elderly man staring at her.

"If I remember correctly, you looked a bit like them at this age, my lady" Gandalf mused turning to the woman who was now staring at Gilraen too. "No wonder your son had a mind to name his eldest daughter after you."

That was the point when the world flipped upside down. The point when Torundir would say something like _What the bloody fucking entshit?_

"What?" Gilraen uttered in a low voice raising her eyes at Gandalf.

"He named you after _me_?" The woman stepped to her tears welling in her eyes and Gilraen stood up taking a step backward not taking her eyes off the wizard. This was madness. This couldn't be.

"What is this all about? Gandalf, who _are_ they?"

"Your lord father's parents, milady, in case that wasn't clear so far" Gandalf replied with a smug grin.

"No" Gilraen said at once. "My father's parents are dead. Dead. You are dead, aren't you?" she turned to the man trying to take no notice of his features both her father and brother inherited.

"We are" the man assured her. "I was asking the same when this old fool put us back here."

This was too much for her. What sort of sick, unnatural madness led Gandalf to… conjure back her dead grandparents into life? Sybille was already hugging with the woman, their father's mother, their grandmother, Lady Gilraen the Fair. This was absurd. Everybody acted as though it was normal. Well what else could poor Florian do, but still…

At some surreal stage it was sweet how they were both so happy to meet her and Sybille, but Gilraen kept having serious doubts about the soundness of the whole business. Gandalf was telling them about Eldarion and Florian while Gilraen kept trying to find it in herself to accept the situation.

"So now I understand why this chance of coming back for a last time is so invaluable…" the man, no, her grandfather mused. "I have a grandson and two granddaughters—"

"Four" Gilraen cut him across, just to clear things at the very start.

"Four?" he stared at her.

"We have two sisters!" Sybille exclaimed. "You'll love them both. We could go and see them right now!"

Oh no, not just yet.

"I have yet to collect my warrants" Gilraen stepped forward.

"Why didn't you get the warrants yet? Mother told you to be quick about it! I told you I wanted to go and prepare for tonight as soon as possible. I have already collected them, why didn't you come with me when I went?" Sybille whined at her.

Gilraen inhaled slowly so she would not yell at her sister.

"It's not yet noon" Was she going to prepare for more than five hours?

Florian saved her in the end "Why don't you go and give a tour to your lady grandmother while Gilraen gets her warrants, dearest?"

"That'd be wonderful!" Gilraen agreed without hesitation.

Florian said his goodbyes and they set out for the Academy where Gilraen took the first chance to leave her sister, Gandalf and the new found grandparents and head for the Small Hall. The place was crowded beyond belief, young men of 17 years stood everywhere trying to push their way to the long table where all the tutors were seated signing and sealing warrants. When she entered the heels of her shoes clanking against the marble floor the crowd parted and the noise of impatient murmur turned into the noise of yourhighnessing. Torundir looked up at her with a faint smile and Lord Erandur, seated in the middle, started searching for her warrant at once. It took ages for him to find it and Gilraen could do nothing but agree with the fidgety behind her, though it didn't seem to ease the tutors' work. Ten minutes later she still had two of them yet to sign the warrant. The murmur was getting louder and louder around them.

"Gentlemen!" Torundir seemed to have enough as his hard voice cracked like whip through the turbulent crowd. "Would you do us the favor and behave like the young bloody lordlings you are supposed to be rather than undisciplined savages on the battlefield?!"

The hall fell silent and Lord Erandur finally passed Gilraen the sealed parchment with his congratulations. She curtsied and thanked him turning to take her leave to go and find Sybille and their grandparents.

"Oh, show your warrant to me, I'm so curious!" her sister clapped her hands together in excitement.

"It is the exact same as yours, you know" Gilraen pointed out.

"But I want to see your results! I can't understand why you won't show it to me!"

_Who said you couldn't see it_, Gilraen thought clenching her teeth and passed the scroll to her sister who unrolled it eagerly.

"Oh, you only reached 8/10 from Singing? I got 10/10! I also got 8/10 for Poetry. But less for Languages. Oh heavens! How did you get 7/10 for Hunting? 8 for Essay, 6 for Practice and 7 for Questions? Wow! My result was like 4/10…" Sybille examined the warrant thoroughly.

"Why do you have to learn things like Hunting?" the woman, no, their grandmother asked.

"If only I knew, it's so awful. It's so boring. And hunting is so difficult. I'll never hunt, I'm sure about it. I don't even like riding. It's so uncomfortable and you get sore from the saddle and dirty from the horse. We always had to ride on that stupid lesson…"

It seemed there was no end to her sister's talking so Gilraen just took back the parchment from her and followed the weird company through the hallways and then up to the Citadel full aware that she was going to have a very long afternoon.

* * *

Yeah... this was pretty much the same as Introduction Part 1, only from Gilraen's POV... Never mind, if I survive tomorrow's exam, Chapter 14 - Farewell Feast Vol. 1 will come along, and obviously Vol. 2 will follow, which is again one of my favorite chapters.

Thanks for reading and feel free to tell me anything you have in mind in a review or a PM :)


	17. Chapter 14 - Farewell Feast Vol 1

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Farewell Feast Vol. 1 that is how NOT to enjoy a party...

* * *

**FAREWELL FEAST VOL. 1**

Sybille spent three hours getting dressed. Then she sent off their grandmother to prepare for the feast too. Gilraen was amazed how well and easily her sister took the whole dead grandparents affair. And when he arrived, even Eldarion seemed to take it lightly. Gilraen supposed she just had to do the same. Sybille sent off Eldarion to dress too. This was her obsession, dressing up.

Finally, all dressed, made they made their way into the throne room where Elboron and Eldarion were waiting for them. They introduced Elboron to Lady Gilraen who expressed how honored he was to meet her and observed how Gandalf will be unable to tell Gilraen and Sybille apart in their dress.

"You never had a problem telling them apart?" their grandmother inquired.

"Hmm… maybe when they were little. But since they're grown it's pretty easy. Sybille has a prettier face, because it's rounder or I don't know. And Gilraen has bigger breasts."

Gilraen exchanged a half incredulous half indignant look with her twin, a real twin moment, the kind they once shared so many of.

"It's true" Eldarion nodded. "But don't worry" he added with a wicked grin turning to Sybille "love life swells the breasts, just one year to wait."

"You. Are. Such. A child!" Sybille hit his arm laughing and Gilraen wondered if love life made her breasts swell too. She would ask Torundir of that once.

Their parents arrived soon, teary and touched with their grandfather at their heels, Gandalf smirking in the background.

After fifteen minutes of hugging and crying the whole royal family made their way down to the Academy. Gilraen, along with her sister and Eldarion parted from the rest of her family and headed for the hind hall where the other youths and young ladies gathered.

"Time for a toast" Eldarion halted in the middle of a silent corridor.

"What? They are waiting for us." Gilraen stared at him.

"They will survive" her brother winked and pulled out a small bottle. Sybille clapped her hands giggling and Gilraen rolled her eyes.

"Can't we just go? There'll be time for a toast…"

"Come on, Gilraen, don't be such a kill-joy" Elboron emerged from the shadows with Florian at his back "It's everybody's duty to wait on the royal princesses."

"That's exactly why we shouldn't keep them waiting…" she tried to object.

"Gilraen! Just stop spoiling the fun and drink with us" her sister snapped in an annoyingly jingling voice and she pranced over to Florian and nuzzled her nose against his.

"So, all hail to my sweet sisters who are grown women now" Eldarion drank and passed the bottle to Florian and Sybille.

"All hail!" Elboron grinned and took a large gulp from his hidden bottle. "Eldarion, do you know Carolien?"

"You don't want her, Elboron, she's a pain in the neck" her brother grimaced. "Isn't she?"

"She is" Florian agreed. "She is as cheap as any tavern wench…"

"Why don't you just find someone nice, Elboron? Like me and Florian…" Sybille offered.

"I'll have plenty of time to wed. One more round?" he held up her bottle.

"We should really go" Gilraen put in. Hundreds of people were waiting for them and making them wait only because they are royalty was actually ruder than not greeting some ghost-grandmother. That's all about her sister's courteousness. It took Gilraen close fifteen minutes to plead Sybille into going. Of course the boys listened to _her…_

Once the unfortunate grooms managed to beg the ladies and young lords into a line and inside the Great Hall musicians started to play they made their process through the great two winged door leading the way into the Great Hall. Gilraen and Sybille were the first to enter, arming their brother on each side. The hall was beautifully decorated and full of people. The royal family was sitting just in front of them on the dais, the musicians were playing on the left with the choir of the Academy beside them, while on the right, the tutors and guests and families were seated. Florian with his family closest to the dais, then lords of the Small Council, then tutors of the Academy. Torundir sat by the end of the first raw of tables with Lord Beregond and his family and some other lord Gilraen didn't know.

The music stopped and so did they to await Lord Erandur's speech. He spoke of past, present and future, mostly of future, including dreams, hopes, obstacles and a lot of advice. It was a really nice speech. Lord Faramir spoke then and their father who, participating as a parent rather than a king, said only a few words and welcomed all the young men and maidens to adulthood. The performance of the choir was the sweetest thing Gilraen ever saw, very small children, already or not yet in the hands of the Academy tutors sang a darling song Lord Erandur had made for them about everything that could make them happy adults. With the singing done, they all took seat with their families, Eldarion led her and Sybille up to the dais and a groom announced the courses.

Eating was the finest and most painless part of all feasts. You just had to sit and eat and listen to your mother and sister listing all the wonderful matches you could find. With the last desserts served, came the worse part. The first one was a red haired boy, son of Lord Galador, who looked (and danced) like an ent with its head on fire. Gilraen put on her widest fake smile and danced. The next one was even worse, Gilraen forgot his face while they were still on the floor. After him, her mother was so kind as to introduce her to the younger brother of Lord Hirgon who was sophisticated enough to talk to her at least. But once he started speaking the handsome face was overshadowed by all the darkness that poured from his mouth.

"Gilraen? What are you doing, why aren't you dancing?" her mother glanced up the moment she finally sat down to drink something after five more young lords.

"I'm taking a break" she replied and pulled a wine cup in front of her and looked around. Torundir sat over a wine flagon with Lord Barahin with a look suggesting he might leap up any second and cut everybody into pieces.

Lord Finduras's younger brother was walking up towards her.

"Your Highness, might I have your hand for a dance?"

Gilraen thought she was going to cry. She just sat down. She was hungry and thirsty and frustrated. She opened her mouth to reject him, but then caught her mother's eyes.

"It'd be my pleasure, my lord." She said, and stood up.

Olendas, that was his name, was a good young man, not very funny, not very serious, not particularly handsome, but not unpleasant to look upon. He wasn't very well built, nor too skinny. He was mostly nothing. The next suitor was an arrogant bastard boasting about what a great match he was. The next three looked as though they were 10 years old. After the redhead and the arrogant one returned for a second helping, Gilraen excused herself and fled back to the dais. Torundir was already gone, that was probably wise, though it made her heart sink. All this was wounding his pride, humiliating him. She hated and despised herself for it. She dropped onto a chair by Gimli and poured herself a cup of wine. If only she could escape somehow, get away, flee back to her room and just cry. Gilraen had no idea how much longer she could go on pretending to enjoy the dancing, the company, the noise, the heat and all the bloody suitors.

Next to her a drunken Gimli was mumbling something about his encounter with an Isengard warg long ago and Gilraen pretended to listen to the dwarf, hoping it would excuse her from further dancing. She poured them wine and sank into her thoughts while Gimli went on talking about being stuck under two dead wargs. Her head was throbbing from the noise, the music, the loud talking. Everybody was talking, or giggling, why couldn't they just shut up? The air was thick, some servants were already opening the doors to let some fresh breeze inside. Sybille was dancing, Aryana nowhere to be seen. Eldarion danced with Sybille's friend, Miriel.

The red haired bastard was already looking for her on the dance floor. If he came up to her she could not even refuse him with her mother sitting not two yards from her. Gilraen refilled their cups again reassuring Gimli with a stiff smile that she was still listening. She was suffocating in this place…

"That'll be enough" her father turned around and pulled the winecup from her hands. "I believe your mother said it'd be two cups, you have more than exceeded that."

Gilraen stared dumbstruck. She couldn't decide what she wanted more, to scream, to cry or to stand and run away without a word. Her mother turned too and started telling her off. Gilraen could scarcely hear her. Humiliating and scolding her in public was nothing new, but she was so tired, so desperate, so sick of dancing and pleasing that the words shot through her heart like arrows. Finally Sybille arrived and saved her. It was one of the wonderful things about her sister. She appeared and everybody was paying full attention to her, forgetting about Gilraen and all the offense she made to the universe. Sybille sat down to a sponge cake and started chatting.

"You should eat something. After all that wine." Her mother turned back to Gilraen with her lips pressed together.

"I'm not hungry, thank you mother." She would retch up anything right now.

Even that didn't matter, though. Her mother and father insisted that she ate a cake. She wasn't even allowed to refuse the cream. It didn't matter she hated it, it didn't matter she was feeling sick from all the dancing, all the food, all the heat, all the lack of fresh air. She had to eat the bloody cake with the bloody cream like it had anything to with her behavior and her duties as a princess. Gilraen ate her cake which made her almost as sick as the fact that the next suitor coming to ask her for a dance – and getting her away from her parents – felt like relief.

They danced for a while, but it felt so wrong, the boy was clumsy, there was no frame to the dance, his hands were too soft and too moist and she was too fed up with everything. The next dance partner was the red haired idiot coming for a third helping trying to chat her up. But what came down as a good quality in the beginning now made her want to kick the youth in the groin. He spoke all nonsense. Nice night, nice dress, nice candles. _A good nice slap across your face_, Gilraen thought. She didn't have strength for a slap though, the best thing she could come up with would be retching up everything she ate on the boy's _nice _doublet. Once she couldn't take more, she excused herself and hurried up to the dais. It was enough, she wouldn't go on.

"Mother, please, I'm not feeling well, may I be excused to retire for today?" she even curtsied to soften her mother.

In the end it still took ten minutes of convincing and pleading, and even her new grandmother's interference to get her mother and father let her go. Once they nodded at her in farewell too, Gilraen gave one last curtsy and fled out of the Great Hall. She ran through the hallways out into the foregarden inhaling the fresh evening air, breaking into an exhausted, helpless sob. She was going to throw up everything she ate. She stood and breathed for three minutes fighting her tears. Her stomach settled a little and she looked up at the Citadel looming above her with all its might. She could finally go home, get to bed and cry. She wanted nothing more than to cry. No, that wasn't true, there was something she wanted more than to cry, only she couldn't…

Gilraen slowly made her way towards the Citadel gate. One step and another. Her head was throbbing. If only she could just go and see him now. She stopped and shivered. After all, she could. She didn't want to stay or anything, just to see him, to talk to him. But if someone saw her, if her mother wanted to check on her… no, she wouldn't care that much…After one never ending minute of inner battle Gilraen turned around and hurried down the Sixth Street.

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Would you have ever guessed the outcome of her inner battle? No. Me neither. xD

Thanks for reading, please review or PM to let me know what you think :) Oh and Vol. 2 is coming... I guess tonight or tomorrow afternoon...


	18. Chapter 15 - Farewell Feast Vol 2

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

I just love this chapter. I know, I'm narcissistic. Why am I updating? Oh, because I'm waiting for exam results. Boy, I guess I should just drop it and accept there won't be any till tomorrow...

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**FAREWELL FEAST VOL. 2**

She knocked on the back door. He had to be home, he left the feast hours ago. Heavy footsteps pounded behind the thick oaken door before it was torn open.

"That was bold" Torundir raised an eyebrow at her. "What if my housekeeper opened?"

"I can tell if it's you by the sound of the footsteps" Gilraen said. "Do you have some time?"

"For you, always" the man said, his voice thick with frustration. "Upstairs and quickly, if you would" he gestured her inside and they ascended to enter his bedchamber.

"Left the feast so early?" he asked feigning lightness and Gilraen frowned at the unusual question. He'd never ask something like that.

"Not early enough. Unlike you" she offered eying him.

"Well…" he turned his head back at her and poured himself a cup of wine. "I wasn't exactly having the time of my life." He turned back. "Unlike you?"

Gilraen blinked at him. "Did I look like having a great time?"

"Surely all those young bastards enhanced your spirits. How many were there? I lost count after fifteen…" his voice was dangerously low, the silence after he finished rang through Gilraen's ears. He emptied the cup and gave her a sharp look.

"I didn't _enjoy_ it. I _had to_ dance with them. It was my duty, it was expected of me, it—"

"Aye, it was your fucking duty to dance with all the twenty something fucking bastards as was mine to watch it?!" he rounded on her flinging the empty winecup against the wall. "How much do you think I enjoyed watching all those assholes holding your hand, whispering to your ears, brushing against your skin, putting their fucking hands all over you…?! That wasn't very enjoyable either!" he bellowed at her raging.

Gilraen flinched. It didn't come as a surprise, his jealousy, but he chose the worst possible time for it…

"I'm sorry, I didn't ask them to—" she tried to sooth the man before he cut her across again.

"No, you are right, you didn't. It was all the queen and your sister…! How they were sending them at you!" he spat the words in disgust. "And they all buzzed around you like flies!"

"I did not want to dance with them" Gilraen repeated articulating every word. She was too tired for this, she understood him, but why, why now? She'd gladly have this conversation in the morning, just not now… "Please, Torundir, if it was up to me, I wouldn't have danced with anybody—"

"If it was up to me, you would have danced with me! But it wasn't, so all the young lords had you for a dance. All the motherfucking young lordlings, so green they shit grass!" he was shouting by the end of the sentence.

"As if I enjoyed!" Gilraen begged him on the edge of tears. She needed him now, he couldn't push her away. "Please, listen to me! You know I didn't like any of this, you do. You know it's only your hands I like about me, it's only your words I'm interested in, it's only you I'd ever like to dance with!" It was all true. And he knew that. He had to know. If he would just listen… She was so tired, she didn't want to fight. She just wanted to cry and him to hug her.

"But I still had to watch them buzzing around you, like you were already theirs!"

"No, I am already yours!" Gilraen choked in desperation.

"YES! You are already mine! Only mine! And those fuckers had better remember that and keep their bloody hands off of what's mine!" Torundir yelled.

She took a step towards him and reached out a hand to touch his shoulder in plea. "Please, don't be angry with me" she begged tears welling in her eyes.

"I'm not angry with you, I'm angry with them!" he snapped and tore away his arm.

Gilraen took a step backward and bit her mouth to hold back from crying. Why did they have to fight?

"Gilraen" he walked over to her a little calmer. "I'm not angry with you, you know I can't be angry with you" he pulled her into a strong embrace and she gave in, though with a hint of uncertainty. "I didn't want to shout at you, only…" he shook his head and cupped her face. "This was a rough night, you know how I am, I just hated to see you with them."

"I know" Gilraen muttered into his chest and drew her arms around his neck exhaling. She relaxed against him for a moment before lifting her face. "But you do know I hated every minute of it, don't you?"

"I know" he assured her and wiped away a few drops of tears from the corner of her eyes.

Gilraen gave a weak smile at that and let him walk her to the bed and sit her into his lap.

"I love you, my sweet, please remember that. Even when I yell at you for no reason, because I'm a selfish scumbag."

"You aren't a selfish scumbag" Gilraen shook her head with a quiet chuckle and he raised an eyebrow at her. "Right, maybe you are, but I love you that way. I know this whole feast wounded your pride, but what could I do? If only I _could_ do something..."

"Just let us forget about the feast right now, shall we?" Torundir said sharply. "Let me list you all the ways _I_ love you instead…" he murmured into her neck kissing it along.

Gilraen closed her eyes from the sudden pleasure washing over her. This was what she wanted. What she needed. His love, his tenderness. But…

"Torundir, wait… this…" she turned to face him. "I'm out of all the moon tea I had—"

"I don't care, we'll be careful, I won't release inside you. I promise I'll be careful. Just let me have you, I can see in your eyes you are dying to have me too."

She was.

"Right… all right, just…" she couldn't finish the sentence, his mouth found hers and their lips melted together.

"How much time do we have?" he gasped as they broke apart and he started undoing her dress while Gilraen's own fingers found the clasps of his doublet.

"I don't know… two hours, in best case three."

"It'll serve" the man grinned into her mouth peeling off the dress of her.

Gilraen pulled off his cloths and moved to unlace his breeches while he tugged up her undershift and laid her onto the bed. He wrapped her knees around his waist and in a moment he was claiming her body.

He had her twice before they finally lay spent in each other's arms laughing and wondering how many of Torundir's servants were woken by Gilraen's screams.

"I don't remember you ever being so loud" the man laughed and kissed her forehead. "Desperation does have its effects"

"I don't remember you ever messing the bed so much, either" Gilraen shot back placing a kiss on his chest. She felt calm and peaceful. It was good to feel good at last.

"Hey, it's either you or the rushes, I can't be careful with two things at the same time." Torundir sat up and pulled her with him. "So enlighten me about this stuff with the King's dead parents, sweetest."

Gilraen rested her head against his chest and drawing a blanket over her naked body started the story. She so missed his company.

"Interesting…" the man commented when she finished.

"Interesting? It's so… weird. I mean, if I had a son and was given a chance to come back and have a look at him, surely I'd accept, but as an outsider I just can't wrap my head around it…"

"They seemed good people. Lord Arathorn is storied to be a good man. And the King had to inherit all the great qualities from somebody. It wasn't just Elrond and the elves…"

"I never knew you even liked him…" Gilraen mused.

"Why? Only because I can't stand your mother? No, he is a great king, the best we could wish for. I still have his Black Gate speech in the back of my head. Everybody loves him, including me, that's why it feels so wrong to cross him. Only, I love _you_ even more."

Gilraen nuzzled against him and reached up to kiss his cheekbones.

"At least you don't feel guilty when it comes to my mother" she gave a dark chuckle.

Torundir snorted. "She is the queen. My guilt goes no further. You know my view on this."

"I do" Torundir was among those not few lords of Gondor who gravely disliked the idea of an elven queen and considered her on-goings undermining original Gondorian culture. Which was basically true. Her mother didn't attack Gondorian traditions on purpose, but she never gave any sign of trying to admit them. She kept to her elven roots.

"Ah, I never even told you what Beregond wants with me" he gave an incredulous chuckle and told her how Beregond and Barahin wanted him to change Halbard in the City Guard.

"And will you be? Head of the City Guard?" Gilraen asked studying his face.

"No" he said without doubt. "Do you think I should accept it?"

"It's not my place to say" Gilraen gave the man a soft smile.

"Aye, but I'm asking your opinion" Torundir insisted.

"Well… I think… it'd be weird. I mean with me... But if you would rather—"

"Don't even finish that. And you're right. Accepting an office from your father while bedding his daughter weekly would require giving away all the rest of that little spine I still have left." He wondered toying with a strand of golden hair in one hand and caressing her waist with the other. He was really a good man. No matter what else the surface might suggest. Gilraen couldn't help feeling honored to have someone like him in her life. And she dreaded losing him.

"How long do you think we can go on with this? A month? Two? More?" Gilraen asked the man silently, all the fears gathered up inside her during the feast bursting to the surface.

"I don't know, sweetest. But I'm not giving up on you" he smiled and gave her a squeeze.

Gilraen sighed and rested her head on his shoulder playing with his hand in her lap. "Oh, Torundir" she remembered with a grin. "Have my breasts grown since I go to bed with you?"

He laughed at the sudden change of topic pulled the covers off of Gilraen's chest to get a better view, making her chuckle too.

"Because it's said love life makes them bigger."

"Ah. I wasn't sure what you meant. I'm also not sure about that saying. But yeah, your breasts are sort of fuller than before our straw bale affair. They are pretty much perfect, they have always been" he grinned running his hands over her soft bosoms kissing into the arch of her neck.

Gilraen giggled and turned around to kiss him.

"I wanted to ask something, but I can't remember…" Torundir mused as he returned to playing with her hair.

"You wanted to ask if I finished the book you gave?" Gilraen offered drawing light circles on his chest with her fingertips.

"No" he grinned "But that's a good question too"

"Not yet, I don't have much left though, I really enjoy it. The writing is amusing and all these detour stories… you'd never think history gets cooked, but they all seem to tally..."

"I'm glad you like it" the man smiled down at her. "Oi, I know! I wanted to ask you what you thought about Faeriel, the 'I'll become a knight' daughter of Horillion?"

"That she is mental?" Gilraen shrugged innocently. "She is a woman, for heaven's sake, why would she want to become a knight?" she rolled her eyes. "Why?"

"I was just curious. I just talked with her and her father on the thrice fucked feast. And the girl was telling how she'd like to become a knight, rather than get married and have children, as if it was something to be proud of..."

"That girl is a mental case. What sort of woman would give up having children so she can spend her life playing with swords?"

They kept talking for a while, before Gilraen decided it was time to get back to the Citadel. Torundir protested at once, he wanted her to stay so they could sleep together. To her dismay, that was not something she could afford with twice as many relatives as she normally had around. The man grimaced in dislike but accepted her reasoning and climbed out of bed to help her dress. Gilraen was eventually on her way home in ten minutes. She got back to the citadel without any trouble where one guard asked if her highness forgot something to drop behind her royal family. Gilraen told him she forgot to say goodbye to a friend wished good night and in full knowledge of how careful she had to be, took the way leading through the back gardens. On the long corridor she already heard her sisters and grandparents' voice. That shouldn't be a problem, none of them would question her words. She just had to lie. Again.

"Gilraen! Aren't you well, dear?" her grandmother exclaimed the moment she saw her.

"I'm already a little better" she forced a smile on her lips. "I went to bed, but my headache was so bad I thought a short walk in the garden might help"

"Ah, that was a good idea, fresh air always helps! Get well, my dear, and good night!"

"Good night to you too!" Gilraen smiled again and inclined her head to her grandfather and sisters too.

"Good night, sleep well!" Sybille chanted and waved goodbye as she and Brianneth led on their grandparents to their apartments.

So she came through once again. She slipped in her bedchamber and messed up the bed quickly in case Sybille would have a mind to pay her a last visit. She changed into a nightgown and opened the windows. The midnight air was still warm… and it was only April. What a hot summer they would have.

Gilraen climbed into bed and pulled the covers over her. It was a miserable thing to sleep alone after leaving Torundir. Especially since the tavern night, since she knew what she was missing out. She lay awake for a while and listened to Sybille chatting with a handmaid on the other side of the white stone wall before she finally drifted into an uncomfortable sleep.

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So that was it... Please let me know what you think in a review or a PM or anything. :) Chapter 16 - Back to Normal is coming up tomorrow afternoon/evening.

Thanks for reading :)


	19. Chapter 16 - Back to Normal

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

A short little chapter... Not the shortest though... There'll be a shorter one. What am I talking about? Who cares about this not being the shortest chapter? Whatever. Here it is. Gosh, the world is so unjust. Isn't the world damn unjust? I so freaking hate this school and all its freaking subjects and now I fail one of the exams which means that I'll have to again and spend another week trying to learn stuff I hate and don't understand and don't know and I'm not even interested in at all. Gosh, I hate unversity, I should have gone to beauty school and become a hairdresser. Or I should have shitted on all my father's bullshit about the importance of money and prestige and just started some course on journalism or anything. Okay, people probably care about me and my bullshit even less than about the chapter length, so I'll stop talking and here we go.

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**BACK TO NORMAL**

Gilraen woke early. She watched the last of the sun rise through her window and set down to wash. The basin the maids prepared for last night was still full, though now, of cold water. But it served and even freshened her more than warm water would. She was already combing the tangles from her hair when her handmaid arrived to prepare morning routin. Gilraen greeted her and asked for a mug of camomile tea so she could dress up while Mirawell was away. She would not dress in front of a maid after sleeping with Torundir. In her mind, she knew full well that the maids couldn't tell she wasn't a maiden anymore simply by seeing her body, but having been freshly with the man, she could feel his scent lingering in her pores and exposing that to servants irked her nonetheless. When Mira returned with the tea, Gilraen sent her off with the laundry. It was lucky there was always an excuse to keep the maids away. She spilled the tea onto a handkerchief and laid it against her skin with a nostalgic smile. Camomile had a wide range of medicinal uses, maybe it could soothe the two purplish love bites on her neck she acquired last night. Gilraen only started getting ready for breakfast when she heard Sybille wake. She brushed her hair and left it loose against her back and, more importantly, around her neck securing it only with a hairnet on the top of her head. Then she left for breakfast with her sister.

"Are you feeling better, Gilraen?" her grandmother asked as she and her grandfather took seat with the royal family to break their fast together.

"Yes, thank you, I'm perfectly well already" Gilraen gave her a smile. This almost stranger woman was the only one who inquired about her health. Apart from the chilly comment of her mother, which observed how well she was now there were no suitors around and the even cooler question of her father which debated whether the sudden health would improve her manners. She had no idea what to make of that. Maybe he meant the 'excessive' wine consuming last night. But now her grandparents arrived, both the king and queen were too preoccupied talking to them to pay any more mind to Gilraen. After all she could thank a lot to these new grandparents, she realized.

Gilraen spread butter over a slice of elvish bread and listened to her mother chattering about what things she would show her grandparents after breakfast. If she'd spent the night at Torundir's, she would be eating sausages, boiled spiced eggs, toasts, bacon, tomatoes, cheese, probably even some milk-loaf with sweetened butter now. They would drink coffee and Torundir would laugh at her, because she would find it too strong and would end up 'spoiling' it with sugar and milk, as he would say. She suppressed a wry smile and helped herself to her mother's finest kefir.

Soon enough the decision was made: they would all ride out and show her grandparents around the White City. In close 30 degrees heat. At least it'd amount to that in two hours and Gilraen was more than sure they would scarcely even _depart _in the next two hours. Sybille excused themselves to go and change into a proper outfit and so Gilraen, Sybille and their younger sisters rose to leave the table. In one and a half hour they arrived at the royal stables, listening to Sybille's constant complaints about the sun and the heat.

"It's only Mayday tomorrow. How can it be so hot?" her sister whined as two stable boys rushed to place a stool in front of her and help her up into the saddle.

"It'll be only hotter in the summer" Eldarion shrugged and mounted his horse.

Gilraen kept silent and did her best not to contribute to the topic. If only Sybille _dressed up,_ like properly, covering her shoulders and arms with some thin fabric, the sun wouldn't burn her skin and she'd not feel so hot. Her thin elven silkdress was a beautiful piece, but did scarcely more than nothing to protect her from heat. Gilraen pulled herself into the saddle and took her time positioning her feet with mathematical care into the stirrups. One quarter in, three quarters out of the thick leather bands. One of the many legacies of her Hunting lessons.

First they rode out onto the Sixth Street to admire the massive buildings of the Academy and the Council Keep, then made their way for the practice field to find at least two dozen men training with tournament arms.

Torundir was in the middle of a duel with Lord Barahin, bursting with energy and cheer. Gilraen couldn't help the fond smile spreading over her face, she so loved to see him in such good spirits. Elboron and Florian were already waving at them and Gilraen wondered how Eldarion wasn't down here with them in the first place. Many were cheering the royal family, some walked up to greet her father and others were inviting him and Eldarion to join. They both refused kindly. The only person who seemed happy about it was Elboron.

"I already count seven rounds of defeats, I don't need an eighth." he grimaced. It seemed he already rued not listening to Eldarion and Florian last night with that Carolen girl or who.

Torundir in the meanwhile was clearly winning; Lord Barahin was doing nothing but edging up towards the fence. With a last attempt he tried to switch positions with Torundir to get room to keep on receding, but it all ended up with Torundir knocking the sword from his grip.

"Yield, yield! I yield!" he shook his head in awe.

"Are you seriously trying to trick me with something _I taught_ you?" Torundir laughed.

"Just one last attempt, in full knowledge I was going to lose" Lord Barahin shrugged catching the sword Florian tossed back at him. "From where all this sudden pep? Yesterday you were as grubly and sour as some sixty year old grandfather…" he teased.

"A good night's sleep…" Torundir grinned trailing off, clearly doing his best not to glace up at Gilraen. She shook her head with an incredulous smile and turned her attention back to the boys. Oh how sweet it felt to know Torundir defeated both of them… Well, only for a moment, before guilt washed over her for gloating upon their defeat. It was an ugly thing.

Luckily they rode on so she had to dismiss thinking about Torundir once again. Even thinking about him felt dangerous in her family's presence. It took three hours to get to the Pelennor field, probably the longest cityride, this was, she ever had. At least her parents seemed happy. Lord Arathorn and Lady Gilraen still made an incomprehensible phenomenon riding down the street with them, but the scene as they talked with her mother and father was, after all, heartwarmingly weird if nothing else.

On the field Aryana and Eldarion decided to have a riding race, at least something would happen during this four hours long ride. And it was a pleasant surprise to see how well Torundir actually taught her ride. He would be happy to see all his struggles were not in vain. Gilraen couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. It was late in the afternoon by the time they were back in their chambers to change and say farewell to their grandparents being conjured back to dead at sunset. Gilraen felt positively guilty for not feeling bad about their… passing away? About their leave? The concept was too abstract to grasp. But nobody seemed very sad, mostly just bittersweet. And Gandalf promised they'd see them again… Hearing that Gilraen shut her mind at once and marveled at the beautiful twilit sky before she could form an opinion about the statement. She'd just feel guilty about it anyways.

* * *

Chapter 17 - Happy Birthday (which is apparently the 17th birthday of the twins, how fun is that?) is coming tomorrow.

Please leave a review to let me know what you think and please excuse me for bullshitting in AN.


	20. Chapter 17 - Happy Birthday

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Here's the 17th birthday of the twins. And yeah... we could definitely say they will not lack surprises. Also, I do not own the song _Rocky Road, _the movie Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows does.

* * *

**HAPPY BIRTHDAY**

The day of their seventeenth birthday was approaching dangerously fast, as Sybille reminded Gilraen only a few days after their ghost-grandparents left. It was time for party preparations. Their father offered to have a tournament organized in honor of the princesses' birthday, but their mother dismissed the idea: a tournament was fit to celebrate a prince's birthday, but not a princess's. There was going to be a feast. Again.

Sybille was as excited as ever when their birthday was at hand, but Gilraen felt she had enough of feasts for a lifetime after the farewell at the Academy. Not like there was a place to argue. They were going to have a feast. The queen would make the preparations herself with Lord Faramir and Lady Éowyn helping her. She really liked to have Lady Éowyn helping her, her mother. Gilraen supposed it was because that way she could keep and eye on Lady Éowyn who was known to have loved her father long ago. Sybille in the meanwhile had three tailor masters dragged up to the citadel (she would never visit a tailor shop herself, she was a princess, people were expected to come to her) every day to find the right color of the right fabric and right cut for their feast dresses. Gilraen gave up on hoping to get a result she would like after one day. It was her sister's custom to insist they wore the same sort of dress, because they are twins. This also meant that this same sort of dress would entirely have to match Sybille's expectations, rather than hers.

Gilraen found she didn't really mind the whole feast and dress thing, she would put on anything Sybille wanted her to wear as long as she could, at least once a week, see Torundir. The man had new learners, beginner young boys to train into swordfight. There were at least half a dozen of them and trainings thus became rather time consuming, he said. One was a meek weakling, one a smug little shit, one didn't wash, two were fairly all right, and one he liked, Torundir wrote her once. He wrote her often, but letters were nowhere the same as listening to him, hearing his voice, seeing him smirk. Gilraen found she felt oddly lonely without the Hunting lessons, without seeing him, occasionally, four times a week. Meeting scarcely once a week made her feel desperately alone.

She had nobody to talk to, a rather ironical occurrence with four siblings. But Aryana was always off at some mischief, Brianneth wasn't interested in anything, but boys and dresses and Sybille would talk of nothing but Gilraen having no betrothed on the doorstep of her seventeenth year. To Eldarion she could not say anything, her brother would be interested in, Gilraen knew for sure. Besides, he shared Sybille's view on her not-yet-betrothed status and while her sister only became more annoying, Eldarion was painfully patronizing with her. Her father was busy and either way, she would have no idea what to say to him, while her mother was just as bad as Sybille. No, in fact, she was worse than Sybille, because it was harder to get rid of her, once she started the topic. As for friends… Gilraen didn't really have friends. All her friends were friends she shared with Sybille once. And now they were all just Sybille's friends. The only person she could talk to was training 8 year olds to fight all day…

She woke at dawn on her birthday, the sunrise was as beautiful as befit a special day. Gilraen opened the windows and inhaled the cold pre morning breeze. She was glad to have woken so early, it gave her some time alone before Sybille or her mother would wake and start their birthday routine. She could celebrate by herself for a little while. She smiled down at the sleeping citadel through the window. The city was so peaceful at dawn. She was born at dawn, her mother once told her, Sybille hours later, before noon. At the busiest time of the day. Gilraen wondered if this had anything to do with how differently they turned out. She looked around her room. She'd lived here for seventeen years. Her old dolls still occupied a shelf in one far corner of the bedchamber. She loved playing with those dolls. On her small table stood her books, the ones she read for entertainment. There was one with her favorite childhood tales, one with songs she fell in love with at the age of eleven. And that adventure one about dragonlords and their throne discords, the one she still hadn't returned to Torundir. Beside the table stood her chair. She would learn her letters sitting on that chair for hours when she was a child. She hid the vials of moon tea inside the thick ornaments of its legs… Gilraen smiled at the room and left for the kitchen to find something to drink.

Just outside the parlor door she scarcely managed not to trip over a small wooden box. Once she regained her balance, Gilraen reached down to see the evil little object. It was birthday present, hers or Sybille's. The first of the many they would get throughout the day. There was no name on it. She turned back to the parlor and dropped onto the divan to open the box and see who it was meant for. Inside she found a glass jar containing two dozen pieces of truffles, her ever favorite sweets. _Sweet_s… Torundir… On top of the jar perched a single white flower of the peach tree in his back yard, she noted to blossom beautifully a week ago and under the jar she found her emerald decorated hairnet, she left at his place also a week ago. There was also a note. Gilraen unfolded it smiling.

_Happy birthday, my sweetest. _

_P.S. Stop leaving your stuff behind, because next time my cleaning maids will find and sell it on the market. _

Gilraen couldn't help but let a laugh escape her lips. She thought she was going to melt away from all the emotion washing over her. He really didn't have to give her anything, yet it felt so unspeakably warm to receive something he knew she would like. Gilraen decided she wasn't thirsty at all and retreated to her bedchamber to break her fast with the truffles.

The rest of the day went in usual accordance to the usual birthday routine. Breakfast, a visit from the chosen tailor, last try of the dress, light snack, bath, dressing up, hairstyle, jewelry, final strokes. Sybille was incredibly excited. For some reason she was getting more and more excited with every passing year about their birthday feast. Gilraen had no idea why, especially now that her sister even had a betrothed so she didn't need to hunt after one during the feast.

"Mother said Lady Éowyn found the best musicians in the city!" Sybille chanted. "And she also said we'll have the three best cooks of whole Gondor for the night! And the hall, you can't imagine! It's going to be so beautiful! And there'll be guests from the whole realm…!"

Her sister went on for another half an hour while Gilraen said a silent prayer to heavens that her mother would not make a scene when she refused the suitors tonight. Finally they set off and entered the magnificent great hall decorated with Gondorian banners, flowers, and thousands of candles. It really looked quite pretty.

The food came first, fifteen courses, each more delicious than the one before. There were only five elven dishes among them, after Legolas left with Gandalf, her mother had no excuse to serve only elven food. After dinner came the presents. The guests were countless and Gilraen scarcely knew a tenth of them. She guessed the young men numbered so high due to her mother's conspiracy to find her a suitor tonight. So she would not have a peaceful evening this time, either. She spotted Torundir talking with Lord Galador by the front row of longtables and wondered how the man would take another night of her dancing with young bastards so green they shit grass.

With the last present, the best part of the evening was over too. A groom stood in the middle of the dance floor to announce the beginning of the dance and ask the musicians for the first song before he saluted the princesses for their birthday for the last time. One of the singer men did the same and her woman companion dedicated their first song to the celebrated. Every face turned to the platform on the right to toast the princesses with the musicians. The singers started playing _If I had two lives_. Her breath was caught frozen in Gilraen's throat as she turned her head toward the singers in horror. Two of them were singing. The man was walking for the dais. To the very direction where she sat. The woman… she knew that woman. The woman was walking straight for the front row tables. Gilraen caught Torundir's eyes before the man turned around and left through the crowd without a moment of hesitation. Gilraen's eyes turned back to the man only five yards from her now. She felt Sybille's eyes on her. This couldn't be.

The singer stopped in front of her and Sybille and sang. Gilraen just stared. She knew Sybille was staring too, at her. She didn't want to know how many others were staring at them. She pictured a hundred and one scenarios to be discovered, but Éowyn finding the exact same bloody singers in the whole bloody city counting 6000 bloody citizens who happened to play in the same tavern she happened to visit with Torundir more than a month ago was not one of them. The bard finally finished and Florian came up to ask for a dance with Sybille who accepted absently never taking her eyes off of Gilraen. Eldarion approached to ask her for a dance then. He didn't seem to notice a thing from what passed in the hall during the last 5 minutes. Or if he did, he hid it well.

She danced with her brother, clumsily, stiffly. The red haired idiot from the farewell feast asked her over. She still felt Sybille's eyes on her. The song stopped, abruptly. Gilraen looked around in terror. Nothing happened. The musicians walked into the crowd and started a new one. They were walking towards her. Again. Gilraen tried to take a step backward, but she collided into Florian who Sybille already dragged up beside Gilraen.

"My princess, we never knew—" the singer woman started while her companion chanted the _On the rocky road. _

"You never knew anything, nor will you ever know anything about anything if you intend to keep your head" it broke out of Gilraen without thinking. The woman retreated in understanding at once, Sybille, the redhead and Florian stared at her wide eyed.

Two hours passed with more dancing and singing. Gilraen barely noticed what was happening around her.

Someone grabbed her elbow from behind. "What in heaven's name was this all about?" Sybille hissed into her ears drawing her aside.

"What?" Gilraen breathed feebly.

"Do take me for a moron, Gilraen? I saw you. I heard you. Those people knew you from somewhere and you didn't want them to know you. I saw your face when they started on that song. What are you hiding? What is this all about? What do you think you are doing? This is our _birthday feast_!" her sister spluttered angrily.

"Sybille…"

"Tell me what is going on! I command it!" she hissed at her.

"I… I will. Just… please wait till the end of the feast. Please" Gilraen pleaded with her. Sybille shot her a look she learnt from their mother. A cool 'I know you did something you should have' look. Gilraen bit her lip in helplessness. She couldn't even think of what to do.

"So?" Sybille demanded of her in the middle of their parlor. It must have been already past midnight. "What was this? Don't try to lie to me, I am your sister! I saw it. I saw those singers, I saw your face and I saw…"

"What? What else did you see?" Gilraen glared at her.

"I don't know!" Sybille snapped. "I saw them going looking for someone… I think I even saw someone leave when they approached the tables… Who were they looking for?"

Gilraen wanted to run, to scream, to cry. She knew this day would come, but she still had no idea what to do. She needed someone to tell her what to do.

"Sybille. Please. I will tell you. Just give me… one hour. All right? Give me one hour and I'll tell you everything" she begged.

"Why do you need one hour? You want to talk with someone. With the one they were looking for. Do you have someone? They knew about him! Who is he?" accusations and questions showered over Gilraen like hail.

"I'll be back" she said drawing a cloak over her shoulders. "I'll be back in an hour and tell you" she said and hurried out of the door. She heard Sybille shriek a Where are you going after her on the corridor. She ran out of the citadel, down to the sixth level, along the main street, down another level, through the back alley.

He was waiting for her already. "What happened?"

"Nothing. But will. Sybille knows. She saw something was not right and she'll not stop until she learns what it really was. I… What should I do?" she looked at the man. "I can't lie to her anymore, she won't believe it. If I tell her the truth, she'll tell my parents. She won't cover for me." For a while she put some hope into that. She hoped Sybille might help her. But this night convinced her she could not count on that. "And even if she would, I cannot expect her lie to everybody so we can go on with this. And if she tells my parents…" she didn't want to imagine what that would bring.

"It depends on what you tell them" Torundir said slowly. "This might not be as bad as it seems…" he mused. After a moment of silent speculating he turned back to her. "You'll tell your parents…"

"Have you lost your mind?" Gilraen gaped at him.

"If you would just let me finish, I'd tell you _what_ to tell your parents" he glared at her, his voice raising. "You'll tell your parents" he continued calmly "that I want to marry you."

"W-what?_ Why?_"she gasped bewildered.

"Because it is so" he rolled his eyes at her. Gilraen stared at him. "Given that you want to marry me too" he added with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Do you want to marry me too, my sweetest little princess?" he raised half an eyebrow at her, his mouth already half in a smile, as though he knew the answer.

"I…" Gilraen was at a loss of words. He was proposing to wed her. That was all her dreams. That she could marry _him_ somehow… "Yes." She choked on a happy chuckle.

He lifted her into his arms in mute laughter and kissed her on the lips.

"Then, tell your parents I want to wed you" he put her back down. Gilraen nodded. She'll tell them. She'll tell them he wants to marry her. He wants to marry her. For a moment the world stopped. He wants to marry her! But…

"And you think they will consent?" she risked the question already dreading the answer. The moment felt funny. She had no idea where the massive amount of happiness she felt just a minute ago could have gone in a split second.

"Well, there's a chance they might…" he said, dark and serious again. "I can even court you properly if that's what it takes."

Gilraen had a hard time picturing that scene and she wasn't sure it would take as little as courting her properly to get her parents' consent. It was more like an everything or nothing game.

"I'll talk to the King. Just tell them first. It should be better if they hear it from you first." Torundir said and she nodded in agreement. "I'll seek him out tomorrow, around noon."

Gilraen nodded again. "I must get back" she noticed in stress. "I… I love you" was all she could add and throwing her arms around his neck kissed him one last time.

She ran back to the Citadel with dread and euphoria racing up and down her spine.

"_So?_" Sybille asked her in a deadly low voice. Her sister was still sitting in the parlor. "What did he say? Will you talk to me now?"

"He said…" Gilraen took a deep breath. Sybille was going to take this very badly. "He said he wants to marry me."

"_Who_ said?" Sybille asked bluntly, in such an un-Sybille-like way, Gilraen has never known before. She didn't know if this was a good or a bad sign.

"He…" she gulped before looking into her sister's eyes. "He was my Hunting tutor…"

Sybille's jaw dropped and she broke into a hysterical fit of laughter.

"No. No way, Gilraen, even _you_ are not that stupid" her sister shook her head. "Your hunting tutor… he was that awful man… with shaven head! Goodness, tell me you are joking."

"I'm not" she said quietly.

"But…" Sybille was suddenly lost. "He... He is so ugly! And so old! And so…! He is so not for you! You can't mean to marry _him_!"

"I love him" Gilraen looked at her sister ignoring the insults.

"You can't love him! It's nonsense! Love someone else!" Sybille was walking around the room in circles and preaching in an irritated high pitched voice.

"I'm not going to love anybody else… You always wanted me to love someone, now I do—"

"Someone normal! Someone young and handsome, like Florian! Well, obviously not that handsome, but there are reasonably handsome youths who are young and nice and kind and good! That … man. He is none of that! Do you even know what a reputation he has?"

"Half of that reputation is a lie!" Gilraen stood up too. "He is a good man."

"Mother and Father will never agree." Sybille spun around with a victorious glare. "Mother will never have someone like that in the family!"

"That's all what counts, right?" Gilraen shook her head. "That the family looks all nice and perfect…" What was she expecting… "Good night Sybille" she turned to leave.

"Gilraen! You can't walk away like that! Don't you walk away like that!" her sister's cheeks were bright pink with passion and anger. She had never seen Sybille so upset. How could she be so upset? She had nothing to do with this. Gilraen opened the bedroom door.

"You are not Mother, Sybille, not yet. You can't tell me what to do" she said shutting the door behind her. This was the first time in ages she refused to obey Sybille. No. The first time ever.

"I will tell Mother!" Sybille called after her through the door.

"There'll be no need. I'll tell her myself" Gilraen replied and sat down onto the bed.

After a while she stood up and opened the window. She looked out upon the starry sky. This should be a happy night. She walked back to the bed and spent the remaining hours till morning perching on its edge, hugging her knees, shaking from cold, tiredness and fear.

* * *

Well, well...

Chapter 18 - The End is coming up tomorrow (before anybody would rejoice it's not the end of the story, that'll be Epilogue, we are only sort of halfway). Please let me know what you think in a review or a PM, I'd be happy to read your opinions.


	21. Chapter 18 - The End

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Before you feel misled, this is not the end of the story. 'The End' is merely a chapter title.

* * *

**THE END**

Gilraen watched the smile freeze onto her mother's face. They were alone in a parlor room, Gilraen thought it'd be best to tell her parents of her intention to marry Torundir separately. Her mother seemed to take the news badly enough anyways.

"I beg your pardon?" the queen raised an eyebrow. "Gilraen… you must be jesting with me. And I warn you, this is one very bad joke."

"It's not a joke, I mean it" she replied gathering all her strength.

"No."

"Sorry?"

"My answer is no. You will not marry that man." Her mother's words were final and hard.

"But…" Gilraen tried to think of an argument to soften the queen. "I love him."

"No, darling, you don't" she shook her head with an apologetic smile. Gilraen stared at her mother. What was she playing at? "You just think you do… Oh, Gilraen can't you see it?" the queen gave a distasteful smile. "He only tricked you into thinking you love him."

Gilraen blinked. She was so tired. "How on earth would he do _that_?"

"You can't be so blind" her mother smiled. What the bloody hell she found funny, Gilraen had no clue. "It's not you he wants. All he wants is power and land and gold. All the things he could get through marrying a princess."

"He has land and money and power. He is a first son, he'll inherit everything from his father, he doesn't need _your_ money and power. He doesn't _want _your money and power." she replied.

"How would you know that?" her mother put the question to her.

"I know him" said Gilraen.

"Oh please, don't make me laugh. How would you know him? All you talked with him was about hunting and horse riding and that sort of things."

Gilraen managed not to ask how she would know what they did or did not talk of. "We talked about other things too. Many things. About him, about me, about—"

"Darling, I couldn't care less what he talked to you about. Clearly he infected your mind with this ridiculous idea of loving him, and worse, willing to marry him." Gilraen couldn't believe her ears. She never expected her mother to grant her consent, but she thought her main objection would be the same as Sybille's. Why not someone young and charming? Instead her mother was attacking Torundir every way she could and trying to prove it to Gilraen that the only things she could still rely on, this man, his love, his words were nothing but illusions implemented by him in order to take advantage of her. The hurt ran so deep and so hard in her heart Gilraen couldn't find words as she listened to the queen listing how the man was interested in nothing but the gains their marriage would provide. She had to stop her mother somehow, she had to make her stop talking and listen.

"What if I don't care?" she interrupted. "What if I don't care he wants to take advantage of me? Even if what you say was true, and I tell it is not, I still love him!"

"I care!" her mother exclaimed wide eyed. "Your father cares! Everybody cares! We allowed you to choose your consort in order to have a happy marriage! Not to give ill reputed dishonorable lesser noblemen a chance to get to power through you!"

"He is not dishonorable. Half of what people gossip about him is untrue!"

"Because he told you it was untrue?" the queen raised a mocking eyebrow. "Open your eyes, Gilraen. He would only use you to gain. You should be grateful to me that I stop you from going into this mad marriage with a cruel, immoral bad egg, who spends his time drinking in taverns and whoring in brothels!"

Gilraen was filling with rage and hurt.

"He. Doesn't. Spend. His time. Drinking. And whoring" she articulated shaking with anger. "He loves me. He understands me. He cares for me. What else would you want from him?"

"Cares for you? Loves you? If he is interested in anything about you, that is your body."

Gilraen gasped. Her mother was degrading her to the level of a horse.

"What do you actually expect Gilraen? Do you have any idea what will happen after you marry him?" the queen went on with ever growing irritation and anger. "He will treat you like scum. All men like him treat women like scum. He's a lackwit brute who'll rape you on your wedding night, bed you for a fortnight, then, in better case, lock you into a room and forget about you, in worse, beat you bloody every time he gets drunk!"

"He would never hurt me! You don't have the slightest idea of what he is like! How dare you accuse him of all that?" Gilraen spluttered shaking, almost yelling by the time she finished.

"How dare you raise your voice at me?" the queen rounded on her. "All I want is to protect you from him because you are too blind and naïve to see all he wants is your body, once he got that he'll have no more interest in you, I promise!"

"He doesn't want me only for my body"

"What else do you think he wants from you? A silly seventeen year old who is as easy to manipulate into anything as a child into taking medicine! Is it your wisdom he's so interested in? Is it your charms? Is it your manners? Are you your sister all of a sudden?"

Fury and hurt flooded her mind like dark thunder-clouds.

"Because I haven't lived hell knows how many centuries to become a dull book myself? Because I'm not a smiley pretty bird to dress up and show around on celebrations?" Gilraen yelled at her fighting her tears.

"He poisoned you against me" the queen said in disgust. "Open your eyes! All he wants is your body and once he got what he wanted, his great love and care for you will shatter and you'll be coming back to us with your tail between your legs. All I want is to spare you that shame."

"_Spare me that shame?_" Gilraen screamed losing all her self control. "What do you know about what he wants? _All he wants is your body!_" she mocked. "Well he already got that and he still cares for me ten times more than all of you combined!"

She fell silent when she realized what she actually said. It took her mother aback. The queen's eyes widened in shock.

"What have you done, Gilraen?" she whispered in a deadly voice.

Gilraen felt tears blurring her vision. She just stabbed all hope in the back.

For the next fifteen minutes she was everything from slutbag whore to shameless fornication. She listened and pleaded. She couldn't do anything else. Her mother raged and cursed her with words Gilraen never imagined her to know. She couldn't have made a bigger mistake. Out of marriage love life was an unforgivable sin in elven culture. Not that it was not condemned in mortal culture, but mortal people were far more tolerable understanding all the human frailty and instincts Elves were unable to comprehend.

The queen decided it was time to inform the king. All Gilraen could do was run after her and plead to let _her_ speak with her father first. Nothing worked. They burst into the dining hall shouting, arguing, crying, pleading; scaring every member of the family to death. Except for Sybille who just sat sullenly staring at the table in front of her. Gilraen couldn't tell how but her mother finally got to ask the dreadful question of how long she's been with Torundir.

The next moment Gilraen was stumbling back against a pillar dots flying across her vision with the burning mark of her mother's hand on her cheek. That was when her father had enough. The queen gathered her dignity and turned to the table.

"Brianneth, take Aryana and go away. Stay in your rooms until I go and fetch you." She ordered in a voice colder than death.

Her two sisters practically fled the room. Eldarion stood bewildered and petrified, Sybille sat with an expressionless face, the king utterly confused.

"Now" the queen turned back to Gilraen with a chilly smile. "Tell your father and siblings how you whored yourself."

Gilraen's jaw dropped in terror. She never expected her mother to help, but this mercilessness was still new, even after a whole hour of felon humiliation. Everybody was looking at her half stunned half confused. No sound came out of her throat.

"Well?" the queen's voice rang emptily. "Have you lost your tongue? Tell them what you told me. Tell them of your intention to wed." Gilraen never heard such graceful and yet such thick sarcasm. "But, you know, don't forget the part where you opened your legs to the potential consort." Gilraen stared at her mother in utter horror. She turned to look at her father and siblings shaking.

Eldarion's face was darkening as he processed the words, the king's look was already as dark as onyx, Sybille was surprised and dumbstruck.

"You never told me _that_! You didn't, really, did you?!" her sister gasped looking up at her for reassurance. Gilraen was still unable to speak.

"Gilraen?" her father's voice rang low and dangerous as he posed Sybille's question, simply by saying her name.

There was no way denying it. Gilraen felt her insides shake uncontrollably.

"I did" she managed to falter out.

Sybille looked as though she's just been told Gilraen massacred a hundred infants. The king sat back down. Eldarion was measuring her like she was a piece of bloody cloth.

"I'm sorr—"

"Who said you could speak?" the queen asked her silently, gracefully.

"I say" her father said. "I'm listening." He turned to Gilraen.

Gilraen trembled. Listening? To what? What was she supposed to say? What was there for her to say after all this?

"To… to wh—?"

"To what on Arda could make _my daughter_ forget everything she was ever taught and act like a back alley slut going to bed with a man she is not married to at sixteen?!" he thundered the last few word standing up again.

Gilraen fought to hold back her tears as she trembled. He was right, he was so right, but she loved Torundir. She loved him, and that was enough to take her wits. Maybe her mother was right too, saying she was a stupid naïve child. But she loved him nonetheless and nothing could make her rue loving him. They were so right, but… Torundir was her everything.

"She loves him" the queen said stiffly. "Surely you understand loving someone too, meleth nin?"

"Who?" Eldarion put it. Everybody looked at him. "_Who_ does she _love_? I still don't have a name and I'll need it when I go to find and geld the man." He spat with passion.

Her mother answered that too. Surely _her_ charms and manners were beyond comparison.

"Her Hunting tutor he was? Am I correct?"

That was all for her father. The king's face could be a statue of coal, so hard and dark that moment as he searched for the name in his memory once long ago reported to him, by a groom perhaps, to be training her daughter in the arts of hunting.

"Torundir?!" he finally raised his glance at Gilraen in outrage.

Gilraen stood there immobile. Unable to make a sound, unable to move while all she wanted was run away sobbing. She nodded tears running down her face.

Sybille stared at her with the thought _You deserve this _written over her face. The king looked as though he was going to slap Gilraen across the face too. Eldarion pushed back his chair so hard it fell back against the ground as he stood and gave Gilraen a glare of disgust.

Gilraen had no idea what happened for the good part of the next hour. She stood there by the pillar where she stumbled back as her mother had hit her and listened. Listened how she shamed herself, her family, everything in the world. How she was worth no more than the thousand whores down the first level. How she dishonored her parents. How every rat in the city was better than her. She stopped trying to make them see. She kept to one reply. _'Please, I'm sorry.' _

"This is past beyond being sorry, Gilraen. You'll not make amends by being sorry. How do we get a husband for you after this?"

Gilraen thought she was going to scream. Her whole point was to _get a husband_.

"He would marry me."

"He dishonors you and you want me to reward him for that?" her father glared at her. "You are the princess of Gondor and he will not marry you, I promise that."

"I hate being the princess of Gondor" Gilraen said emptily. Nothing mattered anymore.

Her father's face darkened. "Then I should send you to a maidens' order to free you of your terrible fate, shouldn't I? But only after I had you watch Torundir gelded and beheaded for treason."

"NO!" Gilraen cried. "No. Father, please, please, I'm begging you, don't. Please, don't hurt him. It was my fault, it was all my fault! Please—"

"Silence! You know that I love you and for the love I bear you, I would not hurt him. He'll live. Somewhere far away, in exile for the rest of his life. And _you_, you will marry the first lord willing to take you with all your shame and I'll hear no more of you."

"I'd rather kill myself than to marry anybody else" Gilraen said dropping her gaze.

"You will not marry Torundir while I am your father. This is not a win or win situation, Gilraen. You did what you did and now you will face the consequences. You'll lose one thing or the other, don't even think you won't." her father warned.

"Are you making me choose between you and him?" Gilraen asked with trembling lips, not believing her ears. All this after their great sacrifice love-story with her mother?

"There's no way being a princess of Gondor at the same time as being a soiled nobleman's whore."

"Then it's him" Gilraen looked up, lost.

"What?" the king raised an eyebrow, grey eyes piercing her like a dagger.

"I choose him."

"Then get out of my sight" the king stood up after a moment of sullen silence, his hands shaking with anger. "Gather yourself and get out of here… And do it very quickly."

Gilraen had no idea how she found her room. Even less idea how she found ink and paper.

_I botched it. They won't even here of it. It was terrible. They said terrible things. About you. About me too. My father said I can't be the princess of Gondor and your whore too. My mother said you were a treacherous bad egg. My sister didn't help. My brother said he wants to kill you. They practically threw me out. My father told me to get out of here. They say I'm a whore, they can't even abide looking at me. Please… what should I do? _

"Your Highness?" her handmaid knocked uncertainly. "Is everything all right?"

Gilraen tore open the door. "Mira. I know I can't ask this of you. I can't even ask anything of you anymore. But please, there's nobody else I could ask."

"What, Your Highness? I'll do anything you tell me, my lady."

"Go and find Lord Torundir. Give this to him. Tell him to send word back with you at once. Please." Gilraen gave her the scrolled note. The handmaid blinked at her bewildered, but took the letter and turned to leave anyways.

Gilraen went back to her bedchamber and broke into a sob.

The next thing she knew was someone standing in the doorway.

"You don't have to do this, Gilraen" Sybille said in stress. "You can just forget about him and marry somebody nice" she added with an encouraging smile.

Gilraen could have torn out her sister's blond locks root by root. How she dared?

"Leave me alone Sybille."

"I was trying to help" her sister said offended. "Well. If this is what you want, don't forget to say goodbye to Bria and Aryana." She turned and left.

Mirawell returned in half an hour empty handed, confused and worried.

"Your Highness… I found the Lord Torundir. He read your letter…He says… he says you should pack your things... He says… he'll send men to fetch them. Your Highness… what is going on? You are not leaving here, are you?"

"Thank you Mira" Gilraen hugged the girl leaving her without answer and rushed back into her room throwing anything she could get her hands on into the large wooden travelling chest in the corner. She wanted to be out of here. As soon as possible.

When her travelling chest stood in the middle of the room packed and closed, Gilraen went off to heed Sybille one last time and seek out Brianneth and Aryana. Brianneth was confused and distant. Aryana sobbed on her shoulders. She on Aryana's. When she was finally back in her chambers two men were waiting with Mirawell, just as puzzled and shocked as the handmaid. Gilraen didn't say a single word to them. She couldn't think of anything. She thanked Mira again, for everything, said goodbye and gestured the men to set off. They went through the back entrance. The one servants used. Outside, Gilraen turned back to look upon the Citadel that was her home for seventeen years. Miserable, aching void filled her soul as she walked down to Torundir's house in tears.

* * *

That was ugly. So now everybody who disliked Gilraen can rejoice and everybody who liked her should say a teary goodbye to her (haha, just kidding), because it's really high time she retired and gave some stage to the rest of the characters too.

Please let me know what you think in a review or a PM. :) I know, I demonize Arwen. Apologies to all Arwen fans out there.


	22. Chapter 19 - Guard of the Citadel

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

So, here's the new chapter, a whole new perspect. Most of these are going to be a little shorter than my average chapters, but they were really fun to write and I hope you'll like them.

* * *

**GUARD OF THE CITADEL**

The Citadel was full of rumors. Every hallway Beregond walked down provided a new version of what happened. Princess Gilraen left the Citadel after a quarrel with the King. Princess Gilraen left the Citadel _on orders _of the King. Princess Gilraen left because she got married. Princess Gilraen left because she was _not allowed_ to get married. Princess Gilraen _ran off_ with a man to get married. Princess Gilraen ran off with a lord. Princess Gilraen ran off with Lord _Torundir._ Princess Gilraen ran off to marry an _Academy tutor_. Princess Gilraen _was married to_ Lord Erandur. Princess Gilraen ran off with _Florian_.

Each story was crazier than the one before, though all seemed to agree on one thing: Princess Gilraen left the Citadel. Where she left, why she left, nobody knew. The fact in itself was absurd enough for Beregond. He had known the Princess since the day she was born, he was Captain of the Guard, later commander, he spent half his life guarding the royal family. He always imagined Princess Gilraen to end up like Princess Sybille. To find a young handsome husband with whom she would live happily ever after. He couldn't understand why Princess Gilraen would leave the Citadel, her home, her family, her place, her life. And even less could Beregond understand what _he _had to do with the Princess leaving.

A guard came up to him just fifteen minutes back, telling him the King had urgent business with him. Last time the King had urgent business with Beregond, Princess Sybille was abducted. His wife always said urgent business was a bad omen. If things were all right, there was no need for urgency. Maybe the King only wanted to know if he knew where Princess Gilraen went. Not like he did know. At times like this, Beregond felt useless. His son always said that was stupid and only approaching age made him think that way. But how could he still be useful when it was his duty to guard the royal family, one member of which left the palace and nobody knew where she was now.

He arrived at the King's own office chamber and knocked. Lord Faramir opened the door and gestured him inside. The room was filled with sullen silence, two grooms and the chancellor were preparing two charters, waiting for the royal seal to dry.

"Your Majesty summoned me" Beregond bowed to King Aragorn sitting beside the enormous teakwood table.

"I did" the King replied, his face expressionless, his eyes gleaming with hurt and suppressed anger. "I would give you a task, Beregond. I assume you have already heard the rumors of my daughter leaving the Citadel this morning."

Beregond thought to ask which of the rumors he was supposed to hear, but the atmosphere suggested it would be a mistake.

"I did, my king."

"In that case, I would have you deliver these warrants" one of the grooms placed the first parchment in front of the King who signed it in dark silence and scrolled it up. "This one, to my daughter. It renounces all her royal prerogatives, disowns her from the royal family and denies her free entry to the Citadel."

Beregond's eyes widened in disbelief. The King's voice was casual, as though they were discussing changing of the guard routines. And yet, he could see the hidden pain and wroth in the back of his eyes. King Aragorn was a peaceful man, never impulsive, never impetuous. Whatever could the Princess have done to trigger such cold headed resentment in him?

"My lord" Beregond started "I have no knowledge of the Princess's—"

"She is also denied to be address 'Princess' along with all the rights going with the title" the King interrupted darkly.

"I have no knowledge of … the lady's whereabouts, sire" he corrected.

"Oh, I am but sure you will face no difficulties finding her when you are delivering this warrant" Aragorn said coolly, putting his signature onto the second scroll. "It denies the membership of the Officer's Council to Torundir, his place in the royal armies as Commander and all rights and incomes coming with the posts. He is also forbidden to enter the Citadel without royal leave."

Beregond opened his mouth and closed it. At the back of his mind, he could hear a freckled cleaning maid chirping _She ran off with Lord Torundir_. He could not believe it. Torundir was a reasonable man who would never make a go on a princess. He didn't even know her. Then another conversation drifted into his memory he had with Torundir months back. His friend was sharing his doubts on some Academy business, he had one of the twin princesses in his tutoring group. Then it came down to Beregond what exactly he had to do with Princess Gilraen running off. This task was a message. A message stating he should be very careful who to befriend if he didn't want his loyalty to the crown questioned.

"I will deliver them, Your Majesty, at once" he replied to the King.

Aragorn nodded distantly. He always behaved distant when troubled.

"Thank you for your service, Lord Beregond" the Lord Steward told him as dismissal as the groom handed him the warrants.

Beregond bowed and left.

All the way down to the fifth level, to Torundir's home he wondered if the rumor was really true. He half expected, and wholly hoped, to find an utterly perplexed Torundir and no trace of Princess Gilraen. When he arrived, Pilares, Torundir's fat housekeeper received him telling that her lord was at his dinner with an expression suggesting that her lord was actually at his dinner of flayed rats. Beregond followed the woman who gestured him into the dining hall without another word.

Torundir sat at the end of the longtable covered with plates of honeyed chicken, potatoes, vegetables, ham, cold eggs, fruits, cheese, sweets, in his lap Princess Gilraen, her golden hair pouring down the small of her back, one arm around Torundir's neck, the other reaching for a wine cup. They both looked up.

"So it's true" was all Beregond could utter.

The Princess shifted uncomfortable in Torundir's lap and withdrew her hand, her last laughter melting away from her face, eyes suddenly weary and guilty. Torundir waved Beregond inside, his face stern.

"Wine?" his friend asked and Beregond stared in disbelief. He didn't think this was the time for wine. Torundir didn't seem to think either, but he had offered anyways.

"I'm on duty here" he replied and pulled out the warrants. "His Majesty the King sends these. To you and Princess Gilraen" she was not to be called princess, he remembered.

Torundir raised and dropped his eyebrows. "I was expecting them earlier, to be honest."

"It denounces you both from every title and right you hold and denies your entry to the Citadel." He told them flatly. There was no way making it any nicer and his friend didn't seem to expect anything else. The princess looked a little taken aback.

"Ah, yes. We'll not try to enter the Citadel" mockery flashed in Torundir's voice.

"You, my lady" Beregond said to the princess. "are renounced every royal prerogative and address and you are also disowned from the royal family."

She nodded curtly, turning away her gaze, trying to hide her hurt.

"I have passed the warrants" Beregond went on placing the scrolls on the other end of the table. "My duty is done. I need to talk with you" he looked straight at Torundir.

The man inclined his head and took the princess's hand.

"Wait for me upstairs, love."

The princess nodded absently and Torundir lifted her to her feet from his lap. Beregond waited patiently as his friend stood too and planted a light kiss on Princess Gilraen's head. She smiled warmly, sadly. Her eyes were happy, but if one looked close enough he could see the weight of the price she paid for that happiness.

"Lord Beregond" she bowed her head silently and took her leave.

Beregond waited until he was sure the girl was out of earshot.

"Have you lost your sense?" he asked Torundir. "When we told you with Barahin to find a woman we meant a grown woman of fit family, not a royal girl half your age and third your size. What did you think starting on her?"

"I'm full aware you and Barahin didn't mean something like this. I myself didn't mean something like this. I never thought we'd end up like this" Torundir said with an apologetic shrug gesturing at the situation at hand, the princess in his house.

"You never thought…? Torundir! How could you even think to end up with her in _any_ way? You lost everything. She lost everything. How long do you think it will be before you get bored with each other and _realize_ you lost everything?"

"I knew what I was risking and I lost nowhere near a tenth of what was at stake. The King could have taken my life if he wanted to. He could have taken her if he wanted to. I have both now. Her and my life, the rest doesn't interest me" His friend replied tensing.

"How soon do you think it will be that it starts to interest you?" Beregond asked bitterly. "Or that it starts to interest her?"

Torundir seemed to have enough. "You said you weren't on duty anymore? Then you'd better stop telling me off like a boy I'm not, Beregond. I heard your view, I understood it. Is there anything else?" his voice was sharp and hostile.

Beregond sighed. There was no chance talking Torundir out of this, and even is there was, it was far too late for it. The only chance was for them to last, for him and his Princess Gilraen. For his sake, and for the girl's in the first place. Beregond decided to give up on making sense to him.

"Only one thing" he shook his head. "My best wishes to you both."

Torundir looked at him with a soft shake of his own head. "I knew I could count on you."

He patted Beregond on the back and left the hall to go after his princess.

Beregond took a deep breath and one last look over the table before he took his leave to go home and speak out all the burden on his mind to his wife. In his mind's eye, he could see Torundir with the Princess in his lap. The princess he watched playing hide and seek and come into my castle not five years back. He was really growing old and sentimental. Beregond shrugged off the thoughts and left his friend's manse.

* * *

As you could obviously tell, this was a little something from Beregond's POV. Please tell me if you liked it or not, what you think and all. The next chapter is coming up tomorrow, it'll be Chapter 20 - The Earliest to Rise.


	23. Chapter 20 - The Earliest to Rise

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Here's the next chapter, another rather short but fun one... at least I really enjoyed writing Faramir.

* * *

**THE EARLIEST TO RISE**

Faramir always supposed he was the first one to rise in the Citadel after the servants. His family was sleeping, the king was sleeping, _his_ family was sleeping. Faramir was working. He was used to this, he liked this. Even when he was young, he was the earlier to get up. By the time his brother would wake he would already win three battles against dragons and save three princesses. How angry his lord father always had been…

And now he was steward of Gondor. He was running the errands the King had no time for.

Every morning Faramir would visit the chancellor to find out about any matter or letter of import that requires Aragorn's attention. On an average day he would put some birth, death, marriage and heritage pacts up to Faramir to sign and wish him a nice day. Then, he would break his fast with the King and discuss which of the affairs should be handled and in what way. When Aragorn had breakfast with the Queen Arwen, Faramir also had the chance to eat with Éowyn and the children. Such was a rare thing to happen. His wife often complained, she wished for a calm life far from the Capital. If only he could give that to her.

Faramir entered the chancellor's office which was yet empty of the many grooms and scribes who would do the day's busy work.

"My lord Steward! The best morning to your lordship" the chancellor always greeted him the same way. It was a pleasant habit of his and oft times Faramir found himself musing how disappointed he would be if Caledion greeted him otherwise one morning.

"And the same to you. What do you have for me, Master Caledion?" he asked the man with a smile.

The chancellor stood from one leg to the other.

"Mostly this, my lord" he drew a scroll from a large pack on the nearby table. His voice was hesitant and uncomfortable. "It's my belief His Majesty would be… interested."

Faramir unrolled the parchment. He had no idea what he was supposed to think. He rolled it back up and nodded. "I'll bring it to the King. Anything else?"

Caledion gave him more scrolls and five letters. These days the messenger's road between Minas Tirith and Harad was hot with the riders coming and going, it seemed. Faramir thanked the chancellor and left for his own office to unload his arms of the parchments. Éowyn could break her fast alone yet again. First, he would seek out Aragorn, Faramir decided and taking the first scroll of the day, he set off for the royal dining hall.

The royal family was seated along a large oak table shining with polish, soft with the finest elven tablecloth in Middle Earth. The King and Queen sat on their usual seat in a seemingly light conversation. Eldarion was eating with a grim and proud face. Young Brianneth looked rather lost, while Sybille wore an expression suggesting she was short of something really essential, like men short of underpants. Aryana was nowhere. Of all her sisters, it was Gilraen, she was closest to.

"My lord" Faramir spoke up and the king raised a pair of tired, hurt eyes at him.

"Good morrow, Faramir. Do you have something for me so early today?" he asked friendly.

"I was given this by Chancellor Caledion, sire" Faramir figured there was no way softening the news, so he just passed the scroll to Aragorn who took it curiously.

The King unrolled the parchment declaring the Lady Gilraen daughter of Aragorn, of the House Telcontar and the Lord Torundir son of Turgon, of the House Peralgil under wedlock in the sight of Heavens and Men from the 27th day of May, in the 22nd Year of the Fourth Age until the end of time.

Aragorn's face darkened, anger burning up in his ice cold eyes. Faramir saw Queen Arwen bend over to have a look to. Blood ran out of her face. Eldarion pulled the parchment in front of himself and read it out aloud spitting every word like venom.

"But… she only left _yesterday_" Sybille observed in indignant shock.

"She's not wasting her time" Queen Arwen said silently.

Faramir thought it best to remain silent.

"I give this marriage two months" Aragorn lifted his head finally. "In best case, three, before she'll be crawling on the doorstep, begging to be taken back." He turned to Faramir. "Is there anything else?"

"Not of import, my lord" he said. "Though…" Well they were already at topic, so why not ask, Faramir thought. "Housekeepers asked the Royal Householder who asked me… what arrangements should be made concerning … the Lady Gilraen's chamber and left belongings. The royal stables ask the same regarding her horse."

"Leave her chamber as it is, I have no intention troubling myself with it" Queen Arwen said twitching her mouth painfully.

"We have no need of her horse, if she doesn't. Sell it, or use it to train children, I couldn't care less" Aragorn said, clearly having enough of the Gilraen-topic.

"As Your Majesties wish" Faramir nodded turning to take his leave.

"Faramir" the King called after him. "Thank you."

"My lord" Faramir inclined his head with a smile and left. No matter how tired, how stressed, how wroth the King was, he never forgot to thank Faramir for his service.

Faramir walked back to his office and read the remaining scrolls. He summoned grooms to deliver the matters to the Council Masters in duty, to inform the stables and the householders of Gilraen's horse and room, to find the messenger who delivered the letters from Harad and to return Gilraen's marriage pact to the chancellor's store room. With one last look to the scroll he mused how he would feel if his own daughter ran off with an officer. Well, Eoreth was far too young for that at 12. And he might just find himself the same furious and insulted as Aragorn and Arwen. As a steward and half a godfather to the girl though, Faramir couldn't find it in his heart to despise Gilraen. She was a silent, good hearted girl who always did her duty. Except for this one time.

* * *

Faramir is a nice guy. Next chapter is coming up soon, Chapter 21 - A Best Friend. Please tell me what you thought of this chapter or any chapter in a review or a comment, I'd love to know what you think! Thanks for reading!


	24. Chapter 21 - A Best Friend

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Update time, because once again I'm unable to concentrate on studying... Shame shame shame on me... Let us meet Barahin. I totally like him, and I totally like his name. It has funny origins. I think they are so sweet with Ëlyel whose name also has funny origins, haha...

* * *

**A BEST FRIEND**

Barahin lay on his back staring at the ceiling deep in thought. The window was open, fresh breeze played with the silks of the four poster bed. Was it past midnight? He couldn't say. In that case, this would be the first breeze of summer, soft and warm against his nakedness.

"What do you think really _happened_?" he couldn't restrain himself from speaking anymore.

"What?" his wife moaned half asleep. "Oh, you are still chewing on this Torundir affair?"

Maybe he should just go back to his own bedroom and let her sleep. But every time they were together he would sleep in Ëlyel's bed. That was their custom, that was how he liked it.

"Just tell me what is there in those two blonde flappers to take men's wits like that? My brother has been mad about Sybille for years. What for? You saw the girl when my father hosted the royal family, she is but a pretty pain in the ass."

"She is the crown princess, Barahin, and your future sister-in-law. Just guard you tongue, my love" his wife smiled shaking her pale brown locks.

"What different could be her twin? And Torundir is not even a 20 year old youth like Florian. How could that girl turn his brains?" Barahin went on ignoring the comment.

"Being twins doesn't mean they are the same personality-wise too" Ëlyel said sitting up, in clear understanding that sleeping would have to wait.

Barahin had to smile. His wife was ready to wake and go into any conversation he wanted even at the oddest time of the day, or night. He pushed himself on one elbow and reached up to place a kiss on her forehead. She shook her head smiling and stroked away a strand of hair from his face.

"As for turning brains, are you sure it was the girl who turned Torundir's and not the other way around? I find that more likely."

Barahin thought about that. He had known Torundir for a decade. He was scarcely more than a boy when his father took a wound during a patrol and thus decided to hire someone to finish Barahin's training. His father went to Lord Beregond, who offered Torundir, a promising young man, his own protégé to train Barahin in his own stead. Torundir was a man grown at twenty. Hard as steel, battle seasoned. Not like Florian was now, or Barahin himself had been. He was a great swordsman, an even greater rider, dangerous with bow, deadly with lance and spear. And he always had a special talent for teaching. He found a way to get to the very soul of people and plant there whatever needed to be planted to make a man of them. At first Barahin was a little scared of him, which later turned into amazement and respect. By the time Barahin turned seventeen, a man, at least officially, everybody was regarding him as fine a warrior as his master was. In truth he was nowhere near Torundir, but they never stopped training. Only it was as friends rather than master and learner. How they slipped from one relationship to the other, Barahin could not really tell. They both figured it was Barahin's farewell feast that marked the beginning of their true friendship. The night they got drunk together and woke in an Osgiliath inn with two tavern wenches beside them.

"I know what it's like when Torundir turns a girl's brains" he told Ëlyel. "It usually lasts one night or two. If the girl really knows her business, or he finds her entertaining it might even be three. But wedding a 16 year old flapper who is daughter to the _queen_?"

"Seventeen" Ëlyel corrected. "And again, being the daughter of the queen doesn't mean she's the same person as the queen. If you are so interested in her, why not ask Torundir?"

"Because I haven't seen him for days. He hasn't got out of bed for three days. Or should I say, out of this Princess Gilraen of his?" he smirked incredulously.

"I was perfectly fine with the first version of the sentence" his wife giggled. "Just visit him, and he'll have no choice but to get out of bed. And you can also see his Princess Gilraen for yourself."

"It's the horse he bought her I want to see for myself" Barahin rolled his eyes mocking. Not like there was any way deceiving Ëlyel. The woman had some sort of sixth sense telling his thoughts better than he himself could. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why? It was said to be the finest filly in Pelendor's stables."

"So you are not interested in the girl your best friend married?"

"Not at all" Barahin insisted with a stubborn glare.

"You would not want to see her, talk to her, find out what he likes about her, get a clue how long they will last?"

"_I_ wouldn't want" he glared at his wife knowing she would figure it out.

"Understood, my lord" Ëlyel nodded with a smile.

"Let us sleep, shall we, my lady?" Barahin chucked and kissed her forehead again as he pulled some covers onto him. He would go and see Torundir on the morrow.

Barahin broke his fast with Ëlyel and their daughter and decided to visit Beregond before he'd go to Torundir. It was all in vain, it seemed, Beregond felt bound by his oath as commander of the guard of the citadel, he would not speak ill, or anything else of the princess he was sworn to protect. Even though, Barahin could tell from the man's words that he was as interested in the princess and Torundir's marriage as everybody else seemed to be.

He was making his way back down to the fifth level, when he saw Torundir riding up the street. He noticed Barahin at once and dismounted.

"Good morning, my friend. It's been a while" Torundir said and patted Barahin on the shoulder.

"It has indeed" he nodded and they started up together. "We haven't seen much of you lately. Where are you headed?"

"I have lessons to hold, you know" Torundir glared at him. "You missed me or what?"

"I wondered where you were gone" Barahin shrugged.

"Nowhere. Scarcely left my house. All we did for three days was eat and drink and fuck."

Barahin struggled hard to manage not to visualize Torundir eating, drinking and fucking Sybille. Well not exactly Sybille, but with twins how could one imagine them apart.

"Yes… erm. I'm happy to hear you enjoy married life."

"Very much. I understand now why everybody is so thrilled about it" Torundir nodded.

"I've never said my congratulations" Barahin said remembering. Torundir was not the man for pleasantries, but Barahin figured this would the way to express his support. They were friends after all. "So. Congratulations. To your princess too."

"Thank you, Barahin" Torundir smiled and Barahin patted the man on the arm shaking his head.

"My wife sends her best wishes too. She is very curious. She would share a tea with your princess" he offered casually.

Torundir was not fooled. He was never fooled.

"You mean she wants to have tea with her because _you _are very curious" he laughed. "Now, now, Barahin, to want your wife to spy on mine… Isn't that out of honorable?" he teased.

"It's not just me! Beregond was thinking of setting his wife on your princess too. You wed this girl, we know nothing about. Surely _your_ curiosity must understand my notion." Barahin chuckled at his friend. His own curiosity was coming from Torundir too. _He_ trained into him to want to know about everything.

"Surely it does. I'll put it up to her. If she wants, she'll have tea with dear Ëlyel" Torundir nodded as they crossed the gateway to the sixth level. "And she has a name, you know, _my princess_" he added looking at him.

Barahin nodded. "I meant no offense. Neither to you, nor to her." Of course, he married this girl, he wanted all the respect for her Ëlyel and Lady Salarien were given. And he was right to do so. Torundir was ever nothing but friendly and respectful to his and Beregond's wives, the least he could expect from them was to be the same to his princess. The Lady Gilraen. Barahin couldn't wait to see if the girl would really be worthy of that respect.

* * *

That was it. Just to reflect a little on Torundir's personality from a non-pink-clouded-mind's (non-Gilraen) POV. Please let me know what you think, I'd love to read a review with your opinions :) Next chapter is coming tomorrow, Chapter 22 - Noblemen's Wives


	25. Chapter 22 - Noblemen's Wives

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

New chapter

* * *

**NOBLEMEN'S WIVES:**

Ëlyel was waving goodbye to her daughter in the gate of their home.

"Be good, my little sweetpea!" She smiled at Anarys who clung to the nurse's arm one eye shining with excitement, the other with alarm. It must be a scary thing to walk three streets up all alone but for a nurse at the age of three, Ëlyel thought as she watched her daughter leave. She arranged for Anarys to spend the afternoon with her grandparents. Lady Doriel often complained that they saw so little of their only grandchild. Lord Malberen adored Anarys too, as did Florian and Garlon, Barahin's younger brothers. Her husband loved their daughter fiercely, Anarys was the sweetest child in the world, Barahin always said. Ëlyel wished she could give her a little brother, sooner than later. She gave one last smile to the fading frame of her daughter's tiny legs and body before she went back to the house.

The maids already prepared tea and some cakes and set the round marble table in her flower garden. She expected the princess in half an hour. It was fortunate Lady Doriel had time to take care of Anarys now, not like her daughter ever bothered when she had a friend over for the afternoon. Only, this was different, she was doing this for Barahin who expected her to find out as much about the princess as possible. And that would require the conversation to go further than what a sweetheart her daughter actually was.

Ëlyel received word two days ago that the Lady Gilraen accepted her invitation. Since then she got just as curious about the girl as her husband was for close a week now. The princess's reply was but kind and courteous. She thanked her for the invitation and agreed to have tea with her any time Ëlyel found fitting. She couldn't make much out of the handwriting. The princess's letters were small and round as far as Ëlyel was concerned. Analyzing handwriting required the proficiency of Salarien. Barahin always said the two of them together were better than any eastern spies. And Ëlyel always enjoyed '_spying'_ for her husband.

When the maid hurried up to tell her the Lady Gilraen arrived, Ëlyel was suddenly feeling almost anxious. She trailed to the hall to receive the princess. Gilraen was wearing a soft lavender and cream colored silk gown with tiny flowers embroidered along the bodice, her thick golden locks caged under a hairnet decorated with shining pearls. With her ivory cleavage, peach colored cheeks and shy smile she looked simply gorgeous. Greeting her Ëlyel spotted the pale gold wedding ring on her right hand, in its middle a black amethyst encircled with golden ornaments and the tiniest rhinestones in the gaps Ëlyel had ever seen. She gestured Gilraen into the garden and they sat into the pillowed wooden seats readied for them.

"I'm so happy you accepted my invitation, my lady, I couldn't wait to meet you" Ëlyel said with a smile. She was careful not to You Highness her, the King denied her the title Princess and calling her thus anyway would seem as mocking.

"I was more than happy to receive it, Lady Ëlyel. I was so eager to meet you" Gilraen replied and Ëlyel had the sensation they were both lying. She invited her because Barahin was curious about her and Gilraen probably accepted because Torundir asked her to. "Your home is very beautiful."

"You are too kind" she smiled. So far it was talking to Sybille all over again. No, Gilraen looked as though she had no idea what to say. That would never happen to her sister.

"Congratulations on your marriage. Your wedding ring is very pretty" Ëlyel said.

"Oh, thank you. Yours is diamond?" she asked straightening to see Ëlyel's hand.

"Yes, with red gold" Ëlyel replied, happy that the girl was finally talking. "My husband always said Lord Torundir had no taste for jewels, but it seems he was very much mistaken. Or was it your own choice?" she offered with a small smile.

"No, not at all. Our whole wedding was kind of a surprise."

"To everybody, apparently" Ëlyel added and Gilraen blushed slightly. "If the question doesn't offend you, please share with me how a princess of Gondor comes to wed an officer in secret?" she asked watching every muscle on the princess's face. The question didn't seem to surprise her. Torundir prepared her well.

"A princess of Gondor just… loves an officer in secret." Gilraen replied.

"How exciting!" Ëlyel laughed.

"How stressful" the princess smiled.

"But your life is so much more peaceful now, my lady" Ëlyel offered never stopping smiling.

"Well with Torundir's maids and housekeeper around watching my every step waiting for me to fail, I couldn't say so…" she said a little uncomfortable.

Ëlyel was interested. Barahin told her the housekeeper didn't seem to like Gilraen, but wasn't it only shock? Gilraen told her how unfriendly they all were and how she understood that. Every word she uttered seemed a little uneasy, a little reluctant, like she would have to guard her words. She was feeling sorry for her. The girl looked so alone and so helpless.

"And what is your purpose, my lady? To make friends with your husband's servants?"

"I just don't want them to hate me. I just want to make them see I'm not a conceited good-for-nothing royalty who will boss them around and mess up their life." Gilraen replied wrining her hands.

"You are the mistress of the house, you are supposed to boss them around" Ëlyel said eying her every movement.

"I don't want to make them feel I'm superior."

"I don't understand" Ëlyel pressed on smiling. She really didn't quite understand.

"They had a way of running the household, they took orders from Torundir. He had his ways too. And I just dropped into the whole thing. I don't want to rummage this routine, I don't want to uproot anything. I just want… a place for myself in it."

"I'm sure they'll understand with time" Ëlyel nodded.

"May I ask you something, my lady?" Gilraen asked her after a long and uncomfortable minute of silence.

"Posing and answering questions is what builds up a conversation. Feel free to ask anything!" Ëlyel twinkled encouragingly.

"I know the situation was so different, but… did you feel a stranger in your new life when you married Lord Barahin? Or is it just me? Is it something wrong with me? Or is it that I was a princess? I never thought I was any different because of that…" her voice was thick with well concealed desperation.

Ëlyel was surprised. She never expected the princess to touch on the most sensitive point of her being after twenty minutes of talking. Suddenly she understood her.

"Are you disappointed in marriage?" she asked her quietly.

"No" Gilraen looked utterly taken aback at the suggestion. That surprised Ëlyel even more. She waited for Gilraen to explain. "I… I love being married" the girl went on. "I love Torundir. I so want to be a good wife to him. I just… I don't know how. And everything is so new and I'm so afraid I'll botch it…" Gilraen blushed at her confession.

"You know" Ëlyel told her. "When I married Barahin I felt utterly out of place. Everything was stranger to me. The house, the servants, even Barahin. You are better off in that field at least" she added with a smile.

"You didn't know Lord Barahin when you wedded?"

"Ours was not the passionate, romantic love with secret meetings and running off" Ëlyel smiled. "My father and Lord Malberen arranged the marriage and I only ever met Barahin twice before we were wedded. I think he really hated me at first." She laughed remembering. "For a fortnight my new life felt like a nightmare, to answer your question. Then somehow Barahin decided he would give me a chance and slowly, very slowly we got to know each other. I learnt to trust him and he learnt to appreciate me. He is a good man, Barahin."

"I am sure he is" Gilraen smiled waiting for her to go on.

"We were married for two months when my father died. We got the news at night. The servants woke Barahin and he found me sobbing over the letter my father's wife sent. My mother died birthing me, you know" Ëlyel looked up at the princess sadly. She still missed her father. She wished he could have seen Anarys. "You will laugh at me, but I'm unable to remember anything he said to me then. In the morning I woke in his bed, his arm around my shoulder. We had never slept together before. Well, he visited my bedroom but never stayed afterwards."

Gilraen was smiling. "Sleeping together has far more to it, than one would think" she nodded.

"You will tell that story to me" Ëlyel laughed. "So after my father's death, Barahin was really the only one I had. We started talking. About real things, not weather and dinner. In another two months I was in love with him." It was really a love story, she and Barahin. She was so lucky. Barahin could have been a different person, things could have stayed as they were in the beginning. But it really worked out for them.

"I never thought you and Lord Barahin had an arranged marriage. I always figured it was something like my sister and Florian" the princess shook her head in surprise.

"You did? I'm so glad. So what about the importance of sleeping together, my lady?" she asked her with a mischievous grin.

"Oh." Gilraen blushed. "Well… when I first slept together with Torundir. It was the first time he said he loved me, that's all."

"He didn't really hurry saying he loved you, did he? Only on your wedding night…" Ëlyel mused. "What I'm saying is that there is really no need to press things. Your place in their routine and your way with the servants will just get settled with time. All you need to do is be patient and don't worry. And if you really feel desperate, why don't you ask your husband how to handle them?" The princess seemed to think about that. "How do you handle him, by the way? He doesn't have the easiest nature…"

"No, not at all" Gilraen laughed. "But he is incredibly loving, you know."

"He is?" That was the last thing Ëlyel expected to hear of Torundir.

"Yes. He is really not a selfish scumbag, as _he _would put it. When he holds my hand and tells me do this and this, my sweetest, there's just no way denying him anything. The day I left the Citadel was really the toughest of my life. I hope you don't know what I'm talking about when I say it felt like everybody I ever loved abandoned me. He was the only one who was there for me" the princess remembered and gave a smile as she looked up at Ëlyel.

"Barahin always said the same. That he is the sort of person who is there when needed. Weren't you afraid that once married he would not be the man you thought him to be?"

"He was always the only man I ever wanted to marry. I never thought I would, though. I really have no idea how I had the courage to leave and marry him against my parents' will. I was never the daring one, you know…"

"No, that was your sister" Ëlyel nodded. "We met before, my lady. Do you remember?"

"Of course I do. Lord Malberen hosted us on the occasion of my sister and Florian's betrothal. I met both you and Lord Barahin. And your lovely daughter too."

"Yes. We never paid much mind to you back then. It was your sister who was going to be in our family. I rue we did not" Ëlyel mused.

"You do, my lady?" she asked amused.

"Please, call me Ëlyel. And yes, I do. You are someone who is really worth getting to know"

They chatted for three more hours. She even asked Gilraen of the horse Barahin mentioned Torundir bought her. The girl laughed and told her of the times she went riding with her husband, before he became her husband. Ëlyel told her of Anarys's accident with the pony. She knew about it already, from Torundir. They ate all the pie the maids served them. Gilraen asked if she herself made it. That resulted in talking about cooking for a whole hour, she promised she would teach Gilraen how to make honeyed duck. As for roast beef on vegetable bed, Torundir's favorite as she learned, Ëlyel promised to get her cook to teach both of them.

Gilraen was about to leave when Ëlyel complemented on the braid under her hairnet and the princess told her at once she would teach her how to do it. In the end she stayed for another hour and they talked more about marriage, cooking, riding and children. She eventually asked her if she missed her family. Her face grew sullen and sad.

"You can't imagine how much. It's all right when Torundir is around, but when he is not… I don't say I had the best relationship with my sisters of late, but it was still better than having absolutely nobody who would talk to me… Well, I was the one who cast them away and I absolutely deserve loneliness, so it's not my place to complain… "

"It is" Ëlyel said giving her a sympathetic smile. "Because you lost them anyways. And the feeling that it was your own choice just makes it harder, doesn't it?" she put a hand on hers. "And I'll happily talk with you anytime you want." Ëlyel had never seen anybody so grateful than the princess looked at that moment.

Ëlyel found herself having just a great time with Gilraen. It was around six in the evening by the time she escorted the princess to the gate and they said their goodbyes.

"And what will you tell Lord Barahin of me?" Gilraen asked half laughing.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll know that by dinner" Ëlyel replied with a knowing smirk.

Barahin got home an hour after Gilraen left. The nurse brought Anarys back and the two of them were already at the dinnertable when he arrived. He kissed their daughter on her cheeks and turned to Ëlyel with an eager grin.

"So?"

"So what, my dear? Dinner is stuffed pheasant. I hope you are hungry" Ëlyel smiled at him.

"Stop that. Tell me how was the afternoon?" her husband glared at her.

"Oh the weather was just splendid" Ëlyel grinned at him. He was really losing patience. She had to laugh. Barahin always complemented on her wits, but Ëlyel figured he mostly just hated it when she was playing around like that.

"Ëlyel!"

"My lord?" she smiled innocently and decided it was enough of torturing him. "She was a sweetheart" she concluded shrugging.

"That's all? You spend more than four hours with her and all you can say is that she is a sweetheart?" her husband rolled his eyes.

"She is very intelligent. And she is kind and tolerant. In fact she may be just the kind of woman Torundir needs."

"Why?"

"Because she is ready to give anything and wants very little in return. She seemed to be the sort of person who will follow Torundir anywhere and submit to his will without a second thought. And all he has to do in return is love her and give her emotional security. If he is sensible enough to see that himself, they might even work out. I don't say they will, but it can happen. Gilraen is a very nice woman. Yes, a woman" she added when she saw Barahin raise an eyebrow. "She is as mature as any grown woman and ten times wiser than Sybille. We sort of became fast friends. It was a really pleasant afternoon."

"Aha" Barahin said humming.

"If you don't believe it, you should just see her for yourself. By the way, she said that filly had a very comfortable gallop."

"Haha" Barahin shook his head and kissed her brow. "Thank you, my dear."

"You're very welcome. I had a nice time. And I was serious. You should invite them for supper. And you'll see she is nice. She really deserves a chance, just like I did." Ëlyel gave her husband a smile and returned to her meal remembering the time she was 'spied' on by Salarien and invited for supper to Torundir's house.

* * *

So that was it, and I got the most amusing comment (it's a shame you all write anonymus comments, so I can't reply through PM. Monica says I'm confusing and offensive. Well, if you feel offended, you could have stopped reading, nobody forced you on, I believe. As for confusing and Dunedain culture and stuff, it's mention in the summery that this is AU. So I'm sorry, but these are Gondorian traditions of this alternate universe. Second, I was SO waiting for somebody to claim Torundir is pedophile and asshole :D I think he is neither. Never mind what I think though. As for Gilraen she is very well aware of what she is doing and feels and immense amount of guilt, she is not trying to blame what she did on anybody else. As for Arwen's character, I already commented on that, as for Aragorn's, I don't think I twisted him too much. That is how I picture Aragorn as a King, obviously you are not suggesting that becoming King won't affect one's habits and character. Besides, if Torundir got hanged for having an affair with Gilraen (who is not a child), that would have been a serious damage to Aragorn's original personality (to kill his daughter's love after all his own love story? Aragorn is not that bloodthirsty).

Next chapter is... Chapter 23 - Lazy Days of Summer and it's coming tonight, because it's short and I want to get on with posting this thing...


	26. Chapter 23 - Lazy Days of Summer

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

Another new chapter, pretty short.

* * *

**LAZY DAYS OF SUMMER**

Elboron was dozing. The sun was warm against his face, the scent of the fruit trees smelled thick in the summer air. Valyrien stirred and giggled beside him. If only she would shut up. Someone offered summerwine around. He would have some. In a moment. He would sleep just one minute first.

"Elboron!" someone slapped hard on his shoulder.

"What?" his eyes flew open in alarm. Wicked blue eyes were grinning down at him from under dark mops of hair.

"Would you care for some wine, my good lord?" the prince of Gondor asked.

"Would you care to damn yourself, Your Grace?" Elboron shot back and sat up cursing.

Everybody was laughing. Eldarion the loudest. Elboron tore the wine flagon from his friend's hand and drank.

"Oh goodness!" Sybille shrilled with giggles. "You don't even need a glass now?"

"I could reply something very rude to that sweet Sybille, but it would not do waking dear Florian's anger. Besides it's good to see you two laughing at last." Elboron grumbled.

After Gilraen left all Eldarion and Sybille did for a fortnight was grumbling and moaning and whining and feeling insulted. As far as Elboron was concerned, it was Gilraen's problem that she was stupid enough to run off with a man who would ditch her in two months. Of course, he as everybody else was shocked when he heard and even more shocked when Eldarion told him King Aragorn disowned Gilraen. In the end Eldarion also told him the _details_ of Gilraen's leave that is, the actual reason why his father disowned his sister. Gilraen was the last person Elboron ever expected to give up her maidenhood out of marriage.

He mused if she would have done it for him too, it was only three years back when their mothers did everything in their power to try and get the first born princess and the heir of the lord steward to fall in love. For a while Elboron even figured he would be fine with marrying Gilraen. She was like a sister to him, and marrying her would have definitely been better than marrying a complete stranger. But Gilraen wouldn't hear of it, she had said she could even marry Eldarion on that ground. So they remained friends. And later Gilraen was even reluctant to be their friend. Her Highness would not sink to their level of entertainment. And now, Her Highness ran off with Torundir. Elboron thought he was both younger and better looking. Not that it really mattered to him who Gilraen opened her legs to, but the comment cheered Sybille and Eldarion.

He took another large gulp from the wine and turned to hand it back to Eldarion. His friend was halfway down Valyrien's throat, not the least interested in the wine anymore. Sybille, Florian, Gwen, Leobald and Miriel were playing cards, Leobald was winning, he had Miriel in his lap and Sybille was just baring a shoulder to let him kiss it while Florian grimaced heavily.

"Who has the day, my ladies and lords?" Elboron went over to sit with them leaving Eldarion to his fun.

"Who do you think?" Florian gritted his teeth.

Sybille giggled as Leobald kissed up her neck then sat into Florian's lap to sooth her sweetest beloved and in a moment that two was all over each other too. Leobald offered another round of cards, but Elboron refused, the sun was already setting and it would not to do to let the king and queen start missing their beloved princess from her romantic walk with Florian. Elboron had to admit, the twins had a style. Sybille with her thousand and one wee lies, Gilraen with her only, rather great one. Eldarion walked up to them flushed.

"I must walk our dear lady home" he grinned at them. "Have a pleasant night, all of you. I'll see you at dinner sweet sister." And with that he went off with Valyrien clutching his hand.

"How long do you think it will take them to get home? Two hours? Three?" Florian grinned.

"I'd voucher for three" Elboron chuckled. "Sweet Miriel, may I walk you home?"

"What do you take me for, Elboron?" the girl shook with giggles. Gwen would have agreed. Gwen _had_ already agreed. Well Miriel was Sybille's dearest friend and she probably didn't want to look a whore in front of her. And Gwen had a talent for keeping her bed-affairs a secret from Sybille, so she only looked a whore in their eyes, his, Florian's, Eldarion's and everybody else's who bedded her.

"All right, my dear lords, enough of the filth" Sybille declared standing. "It's time for us all to retire. When will we meet again?"

"Friday?" Elboron offered.

"No, we are busy on Friday" Florian shook his head gesturing at himself and Sybille.

"What are you little doves doing on Friday that I'm not?" Elboron raised an eyebrow.

"Going to my brother's birthday celebration" Florian said.

"I'm so excited!" Sybille chirped at Miriel. "It's going to be such a splendid evening!"

"Eldarion too?" Elboron asked pouting. He hated to be left without company. Leobald was fun to play with, but only Florian and Eldarion were real company.

"No, he'll not" Sybille shook her head giving him a knowing smirk.

"Valyr?" Elboron twitched his mouth. The girl annoyed him to hell. And she would annoy Eldarion to hell in a week too.

Leobald and Gwen said their goodbyes and Florian walked Sybille back to the palace, finishing their romantic afternoon.

"Come on, my lady Miriel, I'll walk you home, and it'll only take twenty minutes" Elboron grinned at Miriel offering the girl an arm who took it shaking her head at him.

He escorted Miriel down all way to her fifth level home and even managed to steal a goodbye kiss. Miriel was a nice girl. If she was a little less loud and had a little less pointy nose and some nice red hair, he might just fall in love with her. Elboron shook his head at his own shallowness and decided it was just the wine.

* * *

Please review or PM with your opinions, I love reviews, I even love rude reviews (they are the funniest). Tomorrow morning I'll be posting Chapter 24 - Party Business. Tomorrow evening I'll also post another chapter, because I want to GET ON with the story... (there are about 10 more chapters)


	27. Chapter 24 - Party Business

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading in advance, I hope you will like it!

I like Florian, he is nice... sort of... not my type, but nice.

* * *

**PARTY BUSINESS**

Sybille was wearing a peach colored dress studded with gems, peach flowers embroidered all over the bodice. She looked as radiating as always as she walked down the hall on the King's arm. Florian greeted her with a bow, a light kiss on the hands as befit the betrothed of Her Highness and assured the King he would take care of Sybille no matter what. She said her goodbyes and the King wished them a pleasant evening, and a happy birthday to Florian's brother.

"I am so excited!" Sybille told him twining her soft arm into his. "Is your brother's daughter going to be present? She is such a cute little girl. I'm so looking forward to seeing Lady Ëlyel too, she is such a nice lady! Your brother is so lucky to be married to her." Sybille chattered as they walked down to the fifth level. Florian saw no reason to get horses saddled for a twenty minutes' walk, besides, Sybille hated riding, especially in such a fine dress.

"Not as lucky, as I am" he smiled at the girl and Sybille gave him a radiant twinkle.

"Ah, you remember when you just started courting me and we were invited to your birthday celebration? It was the best party of the year!"

"How could I forget?" Florian laughed. That was the first time they officially kissed. Barahin was pulling his legs with it for weeks. His brother said he thought Florian was going to piss himself in terror when he realized the King saw them kissing. In the end nothing happened, because Gilraen asked the King to dance with her so he never got to round on them. Some days later though he was summoned before King Aragorn who told him he gave his consent to them, and warned him to be good to Sybille. Not like he was not good to Sybille, but that was a father's worry.

By the time they made their way down the fifth level, his brother's manse was already loud with chatter and music. Florian hoped they didn't miss the first course, Barahin would surely serve onion soup. When they were little, their mother often prepared onion soup with hot baked bread and lots of soft cheese for lunch. They loved onion soup for lunch. He took Sybille by the arm and the groom presented them as they entered the main hall, already filled with about forty guests.

"Where are your parents?" Sybille chirped in his ear excitedly.

Florian searched the hall for a sign of his parents or brothers. In the end he caught sight of Ëlyel standing by a longtable chatting confidentially with Lord Beregond's wife and Gilraen. Florian felt Sybille freeze beside him. His betrothed wore a pouty angry expression when she saw her sister.

"What's _she_ doing here?" she hissed to him. Florian didn't have time to answer, Ëlyel was excusing herself and hurrying up to them and Barahin was waving at him too abandoning his conversation with Lord Beregond. In fact Sybille had no reason to be surprised, as for Florian, he was more than sure they would meet Gilraen. Gilraen married Torundir who was his brother's closest friend, supposedly among the first to be invited. That was partly why he insisted on Sybille accompanying him. The enmity she bore for her sister was ridiculous.

"Ah, my dearest brother and Your Highness, it's an honor to have you both!" Barahin hugged him and bowed to Sybille who quickly gathered a courteous smile and greeted Ëlyel.

Florian nodded to Gilraen who, seeing her sister, retreated beside her husband at once and gave an uncertain smile to Florian. He wondered what would happen if Sybille was to be seated near her twin, but his sister-in-law was a clever woman. He and Sybille sat beside his parents on Barahin and Ëlyel's right, while Gilraen and Torundir were seated beside Lord Beregond and Lady Salarien at the other longtable, on his brother's left. That put half a hall distance between and twins and, luckily, made Sybille forget about Gilraen as soon as she sank into a conversation with Florian's mother.

Of course there was onion soup. Florian talked with his brothers for a good half an hour in nostalgia while they ate all their favorite childhood dishes. He toasted Barahin for his birthday, their father did so, Torundir did so and Ëlyel did so. Once nobody else wished to toast Barahin the groom announced dessert. Splendid cakes and sweets were served and people started switching places so everybody could get to sit with whoever they wished. Florian and Sybille ended up with the younger Forlan brother and his wife and chatted about their upcoming marriage. His brother and Ëlyel moved along the tables talking to every guest before anybody would have the mind to get offended, but funnily enough they always seemed to drift back to Torundir and Gilraen, especially Ëlyel who went off to whisper into Gilraen's ear every time she found something amusing. Sybille noticed it too. Luckily, Ëlyel remembered in time that she'd been neglecting her royal guest far too long and took Sybille by the arm for a walk and a chat. Florian, left alone, decided it was time for some greetings.

"It's been a while, my lady" he called at Gilraen who was so surprised she almost dropped her winecup.

"Indeed, my lord, it's a pleasure to see you" she replied uncertainly.

"Since when do you 'my lord' me? Since when _am_ I a lord?" Florian pulled his mouth into a grin. Everybody lorded him since he was betrothed to Sybille. But only first born sons inherited that title and he himself would not be a lord till their wedding.

"Well… you just called me 'my lady'" Gilraen said puzzled.

"Well, if I remember correctly, every woman married to a lord is to be addressed 'lady'. How are you, Gilraen?"

"I'm well, thank you" she nodded uncomfortably. "And you?"

"Oh, I've already had four cups of wine, I'm just perfectly well, thanks" he grinned. The ice finally started to break as Gilraen chuckled at the comment. Florian was never the great drinker Elboron and Eldarion were and Gilraen knew that just as well as he did. "You know, only because Sybille and Eldarion are not talking to you, we are still sort of friends, aren't we?" When he was told of Gilraen and listened to Eldarion and Sybille calling their sister whore three times a minute he decided no matter what the girl did, he still wouldn't forget all the things she did for Sybille and him back a year ago.

"Yes. We are" Gilraen broke into a grateful smile. "And how are the others? Elboron, my brother, the girls… Miriel and the rest?"

"All fine. And before I forget, congratulations to you"

"Thank you, Florian" Gilraen smiled at him. "And—"

"There you are. We still haven't danced, you know" Torundir arrived and took Gilraen's hand.

"My lord" Florian turned to him too. He wanted no enmity between himself and his brother's friend. Torundir was always friendly with him, and Florian was not going to get into any uncomfortable piques. He had nothing to do with Gilraen running off. As far as he was concerned the two could live happily ever after if they wanted. "I've never got to congratulate to you on your marriage, either. I wish the best for you and Gilraen both."

Torundir gave him an approving look. "Very kind of you, Florian. Will you forgive me, if I take my wife for a dance?"

"My lord, Gilraen" he inclined his head at him. "Have a pleasant evening."

They thanked and left. Florian was pretty much satisfied with himself. He never planed to go into a long conversation with Gilraen, Sybille would have noticed that and he could endure her wrath for days. But now he expressed how he wanted no part in this cold war between Gilraen and the rest of the royal family. Now he could just go and dance with Sybille.

"What is she doing?!" Sybille was observing the dance floor with an indignant grimace where Torundir was spinning Gilraen who was laughing with all her heart.

"She is happy" Florian shrugged. "Shall we dance, dearest?"

"Dance? There? With _them_? I'm not going there" Sybille answered sourly.

"Then let's just sit and talk" Florian offered studying her face.

"With who? Everybody is dancing" his betrothed whined.

"With each other. I want to talk to you about—"

"I'll not hear a word of _her_" she cut him across.

"I want to talk to you about our wedding" Florian repeated with a smile. That was a lie, he wanted to talk about Gilraen, but the time didn't seem right, Sybille was too upset. And even though she did her best to pretend how she hated Gilraen, Florian could just tell she was feeling incredibly lonely without her twin. He drew and arm around her and escorted her to the nearest table. Discussing their wedding always cheered her up. Sybille chatted about her plans while Florian thought about a way to get his betrothed talk to her sister. When the music stopped and the dancers changed partners the situation offered itself. Barahin left the floor to discuss something with Beregond while Torundir asked Lady Salarien, left behind, for a dance. Florian excused himself and hurried off to get Ëlyel dance with him which resulted in Gilraen being left alone with nobody on the edge of the dance floor but Sybille, also left alone. Ëlyel understood at once and they exchanged a glance agreeing to stay close and see what would happen.

Gilraen stood from one leg to the other and gave Sybille and uncertain smile who looked as though she was going to run at Florian for what he did. That would not befit a Princess, though. Sybille turned to Gilraen with a grimace.

"So… how are you, Sybille?" Gilraen started with no better idea.

"Fine" came the stiff replied and Florian heard Ëlyel snort.

"And… how is Eldarion?"

"He is fine too."

"And Brianneth and Aryana?"

"They are fine too. And mother and father are _fine_ too. We are all _fine_ without you"

Gilraen looked taken aback at those words. Ëlyel gestured Florian closer to the twins in case their interference would be needed.

"I never meant to hurt you, you know. I never meant any offense to any of you. I didn't do it to make you unhappy, I just … wanted to be happy" Gilraen said dropping her gaze in shame.

"Well… that's good to know" Sybille replied coldly. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"I'm sorry if it offends you. Lord Barahin invited us" Gilraen said silently.

The music stopped and Florian rolled his eyes. Now he had no excuse not to go back to Sybille. Ëlyel saved the day.

"Your Highness, do forgive me, only my dear brother-in-law could save me from having to dance with Lord Theoron"

Sybille had to smile at that. Theoron was an awfully fat man, she and Ëlyel gossiped about earlier. He only became friendly with Barahin a few months ago and they invited him to get to know more of him.

"I'm sure, my beloved will forgive us. And you too, my lady" Florian added to Gilraen and taking Sybille by the arm left Ëlyel to chat with the girl.

"WHY did you do that? You left me alone with her on purpose!" Sybille hissed.

"My dear, you can't hate her forever…"

"She dishonored us. I'll always hate her for it. How she dares tell me she only did it for herself, her own happiness! Selfish little snake! Let us dance now!" Sybille said angrily and they went off to dance.

As the time passed guests started taking their leave, his father and mother left too. Though they were not any old in real, his father's cracked hip never really healed after that unfortunate patrol and he tired very soon. Lord Beregond and Lady Salarien left too. Some people still danced, Barahin and Ëlyel were sitting with Torundir and Gilraen, picking at the leftover of dessert, drinking and laughing. Every time Sybille caught sight of her sister enjoying herself she grew sourer and angrier. She had a hard time enduring 'being insulted' by Gilraen 'whoring around' in public. Soon, his brother Garlon left too so he and Sybille were really left without company, as his betrothed would not hear of going over to sit with Barahin and Ëlyel where Gilraen was. Around midnight half the remaining guests were drunk. The singe was prancing around them leading the singing. The ladies had the female lines of songs, the lords the male lines. The men sang a drinking song, Ëlyel and Barahin some wife and husband quarrel thing.

When the singer talked Gilraen into singing the lines of the _Maiden Fair_ being the only blonde woman in the company, Sybille had enough.

"I want to go home" she declared leaving no room for arguing. Well once they were not going to get over and have fun with the others, it was actually the best thing to do. Florian felt a little guilty for luring Sybille into a trap, but she had to talk to her sister. They couldn't hate each other for ever and these few sentences may be a start.

* * *

The Bear And The Maiden Fair belongs to George R.R. Martin. I can't believe this update took so long... almost 24 hours... tomorrow, there'll be two chapters because I can't wait to see the end, haha

Next one is Chapter 25 - Princess Fights...

Oh and I still appreciate reviews.


	28. Chapter 25 - Princess Fights

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Poor Brianneth is always just... there... :/

* * *

**PRINCESS FIGHTS**

Brianneth was sitting at the breakfast table with parents and brother and sister. Sybille was not there yet, she got back from Lord Barahin's birthday celebration late last night. Brianneth couldn't wait to hear how the party was - Sybille promised to tell her every detail. The only good thing about Gilraen leaving was that Sybille was finally paying attention to her. Previously she only talked with Gilraen, which Brianneth couldn't imagine to be any good, after all her eldest sister was all but sour and miserable all the time. Otherwise everybody was angry and tense and Aryana was wilder and harder to endure than ever. But she loved sharing Sybille's company. Her sister allowed her to go with her almost everywhere and she told Brianneth her secrets and her plans for her wedding and of Florian and of love and everything.

"Good morning" Sybille finally arrived with a sleepy smile.

"Come, sit here!" Brianneth offered her sister the seat beside her and she accepted with a grateful smile. Sybille was such a perfect lady.

"Good morning, my darling" their mother greeted Sybille too and offered her some lightbread and yoghurt.

"Thank you, Mother!" Sybille chanted and took the food.

"How was the feast?" Eldarion munched at Sybille. He could be so disgusting sometimes…

"Horrible" her sister replied.

"Horrible?" Brianneth was stunned. "Why? You said it would be so great!"

"I _thought_ it would be so great…" Sybille grimaced.

"And what happened that you didn't have a good time?" their royal father asked Sybille with a kind smile. He was always so kind to Sybille. Well, she was a good girl, everybody loved her. Not like Aryana. Everybody hated Aryana. Well, their father didn't, but Brianneth did. She was so childish and stupid. Why couldn't she be like Sybille? Or at least like Gilraen. Even that was better than being like the unfortunate tomboy she was.

Brianneth looked at Sybille, eager to hear the answer. She didn't have any idea how a feast could be anything but wonderful.

"Well…" her sister starting shifting uncomfortable looking from their mother to their father and finally to Eldarion. "Gilraen was there" she finally said. Even almost a month after Gilraen left everybody reacted the same way they did in the morning after her sister left. Her royal mother losing all her appetite at the unpleasant thought of a daughter committing such things Gilraen did, paled. Her royal father's face darkened and he dropped his gaze to finish his meal. Eldarion's face was shadowed by anger and despise.

"If I was her, I would never be as shameless as to show in public after what I did" their mother finally said.

Eldarion and Sybille exchanged a glance promising they would discuss the matter later. After Gilraen left, they agreed that they would try to spare their mother the pain of mentioning their sister, so with the whole family present, Gilraen was hardly ever mentioned. Their royal parents soon finished their meal and left the table to go on the day's business. With their leave the three of them was free to discuss what happened at the feast. If Aryana would just go away too. Sybille decided she had no patience to wait for such and started.

"You can't imagine how awful it was. We entered and she was there. And Florian wanted me to talk with her. As if I would after what she did. And she was acting as if nothing happened! She was smiling and laughing with that horrible man and everybody was talking to her!"

Poor Sybille, it must have been so uncomfortable for her. Only very few people knew what Gilraen really did, but still to have her sister around who ran off with this bastard man and insult her... Brianneth couldn't imagine how Sybille restrained herself from yelling at Gilraen. Well, she was a perfect lady, but still.

"Who was talking to her?" Eldarion asked, clearly surprised that anybody had taste even to look at their sister.

"Lady Ëlyel! It was so terrible. _I_ am going to be her sister-in-law! _I_ am going to marry her husband's brother. And she was talking to _her_! All night! She should have been talking to _me_! What could she even talk to her about? _I_ met her first, she was _my_ friend first, on the feast at Florian's parents'! How could she be talking to her now all night?" Sybille complained desperately. Lady Ëlyel was ignorant. Sybille was going to be her relative, not Gilraen…

"And! She was dancing! Can you imagine? Like nothing happened! As if she had been good and married a nice lord in proper time, in proper way" Sybille turned to Brianneth now. "You know what she was wearing?"

"What?" Brianneth asked eager for information. She so wanted to help Sybille somehow, but all she could do was listen to her.

"She was wearing this crimson dress, some sort of silk…"

"What crimson dress? I don't remember that dress" Brianneth frowned.

"Of course you don't!" Sybille glared at her. "She never had a crimson dress _before_. It was all new, the bodice was embroidered with black thread. The pattern some flowers. The fabric was so soft it flew around her waist like crimson wind when she spun around. It was pretty in fact, I never liked red, but it really looked good on her… She had a hairnet too, with rubies! She never had a hairnet with rubies!"

Brianneth wondered if Gilraen threw away all her old cloths. Maybe that man bought her so many new dresses she didn't need the old ones.

"It had this very unique cut, too. Almost straight at the cleavage and just a pair of thin golden chains attached it to her neck, otherwise the sleeves left her shoulders absolutely bare. They were baggy, but in a pretty way. It all looked really a fine dress… And she danced with that bastard all these hot South-Gondorian dances. You know, with lots of spinning and skirt flapping and dancing around" Sybille gestured with her hands as she explained.

"Did you talk to her?" Eldarion asked.

"She talked to me. She asked how I was. And how you all were. I told her we were all fine and not sheding tears after her. And she tells me then, she didn't want to offend us, she only did it for her own happiness. Can you imagine that? How can she be so selfish, how can she even dare say that to me? How can she—"

"SHUT UP, you filthy, damned hypocrite shit!" Aryana started screaming at Sybille out of nowhere. Brianneth turned to her little sister in horror. How could she talk to Sybille like that? How could she talk to anybody like that? "You call Gilraen selfish? Haven't you heard a single word you've been bitching about? The only reason you are angry with her, because you were dying with envy when you saw how happy and beautiful she was! You evil monster, she is your sister! She was crying out her eyes when you were kidnapped. I should have told her it was for the best that you were gone! She did everything for you and you even begrudge her a new dress and a friend! You filthy evil witch, I hate you! How can you be so evil?! I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU, YOU FILTHY EVIL RAT, I HATE YOU! "

Sybille sat petrified and stared at Aryana breaking her plate against the floor, beating the table with her fists, actually throwing her cup at Sybille, screaming at the top of her voice. Two guards, three maids and two governesses arrived running to find out what was going on. It took four of them to keep Aryana from hitting Sybille and by the time Lord Faramir arrived Aryana was still kicking in the grasp of the maids and guards screaming her throat raw about how she hated them all, tears flooding from her eyes. He summoned their royal mother and father at once. The maids took Sybille back to her chambers. Brianneth wanted to go with her, but her mother didn't allow. Poor Sybille looked so shocked she was almost crying and in the end it was their mother who went to comfort her. Their royal father managed to quiet Aryana and escorted her to his office to have a long and serious talk. Brianneth didn't think a long and serious talk would be any use. Aryana was a little animal and there was no talk long and serious enough to make a human being of her.

She always did that, Aryana. She spoiled their days. Brianneth finally set off for her lessons alone and hoped to find comfort with her friends.

* * *

Yeah... you would have done the same, no? Even if you wouldn't have done the same, don't hate on Aryana. If you hate on Aryana, you hate on my little sister :o

Again, please let me know what you think in a review or PM, I'd love to know your opinions. Next chapter, Chaptr 26 - Lord of Maeregard* is coming ... should be tonight, if the internet connection here agrees.

*no such place in Middle Earth as far as I know, I made that name up for a place by the sea. (Isengard+Mare+an additional e, because ae sounds are cool - I'm making so much sense again .)


	29. Chapter 26 - Lord of Maeregard

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Another of my favorite chapters. I love this fellow.

*Maeregard is not a real place in Tolkien's world, as far as I know, I just made the name up, so it'll sound cool for a place by the sea. I would locate it on the eastern side of Belfalas peninsula, it's a smaller castle with a couple of villages around.

* * *

**LORD OF MAEREGARD***

Thirty-eight years. He had been visiting the Citadel for thirty-eight years. And never before during thirty-eight years did a bloody groom ever dare talk to him that way. Never before that bitch of a woman took a crown upon her head would a bloody groom get away with talking to him that way without losing his tongue.

Lord Turgon crossed the Sixth Level in angry hurry and headed down to his once mansion. Every time he came to the White City on some business he remembered his youth with nostalgia, all the years he spent in service of Lord Denethor, drinking with friends, running after girls. And every time he suffered an insolence like this morning, he remembered why he eventually left the City. Corruption, scheming and power struggles were always part of Minas Tirith and that was how they liked it. Everybody had a place in the hierarchy, and they knew their place and acted according to it. Then King Aragorn brought along his pointed eared woman and she decided it was time to demolish it all, everybody was equal in her eyes. Only elves were more equal than others…

The two guardsmen in the yard greeted him as old friends would. Before them, their fathers served as man-at-arms of the mansion back at the time while he was lord of the house. The servants were the same, sons followed their fathers, daughters their mothers.

"M'lord, welcome!" their old stable master's freckled son ran up to take his horse and patting the lad on his shoulder, Lord Turgon made his way for the entrance on foot.

He flung the two-winged front door open and bursted into the main hall.

"My lord, it's been ages!" Pilares was hurrying up to him laughing, clapping her fat aging hands together in mirth. She was just a few years younger than Turgon himself, her mother was housekeeper to his father, and they practically grew up together. He even figured he was the father of her first born girl, Merillen. She married some carpenter on the third level.

"Pilar, darling, how've you been?" he brought the housekeeper into his arms and slapped hard on her behind.

"We knew, m'lord was coming up t' the city?" she asked running for wine to bring to him.

"Only if you see the future. Leave the wine, I want to see Torundir at once."

"I'm afraid the lord is still in bed" she shook her head.

"At 10 in the morning?! Go wake your lord, or I'll do it myself!"

"M'lord, the lord left orders not to be disturbed…" Pilares objected. Turgon rolled his eyes in rage, he had a rough morning and wasn't ready for these games.

"I'll disturb him anyways" he pushed the woman out of his way and started going up the stairs, Pilares running after him. "My lord, please!" He waved her off marching ahead with long strides and reaching it, he tore open the bed chamber door.

Torundir was sitting on the bed, his breeches down, clutching a small blondie seated in his lap, half peeled out even of that transparent silken nothing she wore. _The lord is still in bed_. Turgon roared with laughter.

"Forgotten how to knock?!" Torundir rounded on him in clear irritation while his girl just stared in alarmed surprise.

"That's nice greeting, I can say" he guffawed.

"My lord, forgive me, I tried to tell the lord—" Pilares started half uncomfortable, half struggling to hold back laughter herself.

"You should have been more specific on what your lord was doing in bed" Turgon cut her across shaking with laughter.

"Always my fault, righ'?" the housekeeper grumbled.

"Do you want something or will you be so kind as to get out?" Torundir glared at them.

"I have an urgent matter to discuss" Lord Turgon managed as gracefully as he could.

"What urgent fucking matter couldn't wait half an hour?" Torundir broke out desperately.

"Well if I was the one having that juicy little blond over my dick, I'm sure any matter could wait half an hour" he replied eying the girl with a smirk. Her jaw dropped at the comment as she turned to Torundir, dumbstruck and indignant.

"Oh seven bleeding hells!" Torundir cursed.

"Honestly, if you promise to lend me a bite of this ripe little peach I'll give you half an hour!" Lord Turgon went on chuckling. This was the finest wench he had seen in years.

The girl gasped in horror and Torundir seemed to have enough too.

"She is my wife, damn it, you'll get no bite of her!" he lifted the girl from his lap.

It was Turgon's turn to drop a jaw. His wife? That had to be a jest. He wasn't married, he couldn't have been married. He never said he was married…

"Your wife?" he stared at Torundir and the girl, just pulling the shift back onto her shoulders.

"Sorry about this, he's always been like that to women…" Torundir told her.

"I never knew you married…" Turgon stared in awe. Bloody hell, what things he said about this girl… "You could have at least dropped a line, you know… _Dear Father, I got married._ Wouldn't have been a strain, would it?"

"This is your _father_?" the girl finally found her voice.

"Aye, wasn't it obvious?" Torundir glanced at her with a knowing eye-roll.

"No" she said, shocked and after a moment of staring at Turgon went on. "Though, on a second thought there _is_ a certain family resemblance."

"Milady, forgive me, I meant no offense… I had no idea." Turgon told to her defensively.

"No, my lord… it's alright… I… It's very nice to meet you" she pressed out, scarlet red.

Turgon chuckled again. Did his son finally develop a taste for decent women? Couldn't be…

"So what was so urgent?" Torundir glanced at him looking around for his shirt.

Lord Turgon remembered his reason for bursting the door on them only then. The insult felt fresh and new again. That bloody fucking groom…

"Every time I come to this damned city, I start the day in the Citadel to give my greetings to the King. Only now, this little shit of a groom comes back to tell me the King won't receive me and _Her Majesty _orders me to leave the Citadel at once! I ask what the fuck. And he tells me to visit my son and inquire! So why won't the King receive me?"

Torundir's reaction surprised him. His son gave an uncomfortable nod at the story and glanced at his wife who blushed so red as a blooming rose on those pretty cheeks of hers. Lord Turgon was puzzled. Could there be an actual reason for what happened?

"The King didn't receive you because I married his daughter" Torundir finally said flatly. "Against his will." He added.

Lord Turgon blinked as he processed the words. The elements slowly packed. The King. His daughter. Torundir. His marriage. The girl on the bed. Three thoughts formed in his head. One, the girl was one of the twin princesses. Two, he just called her, King Aragorn's daughter, a juicy little blond. Three, what the fuck was Torundir doing wedding this girl?

"My lady. I do apologize for everything I said" he told the princess first who reddened even more. "And you" he turned to Torundir. "We really need to talk."

"We will" he replied. "Just leave while we dress, will you?"

Lord Turgon nodded and turned to take his leave.

"And Father. Good to see you, welcome back! Before I forget the greeting" Torundir called after him and he couldn't help but smile and shake his head. He took after him. Too much.

Down in the parlor Pilares poured him wine. It was more than welcome now.

"Is that really the King's daughter?" he asked the housekeeper in a low voice, as though the girl could hear him from upstairs.

"Aye, she is" Pilar nodded with a knowing look, whispering too.

"How?" he spread his arms in utter confusion.

"The lord brought her here not a whole moon past. We were as stunned as yourself, m'lord… You can imagine. They threw her out from the Citadel when she told the Queen she wanted to marry Lord Torundir" the woman confided and Turgon felt his blood boil once again.

"Why, what she thinks of herself that my son is not good enough for her daughter?!" he pressed out through gritted teeth.

"She is seventeen, m'lord. Half the lord's age. Their marriage was talk for more than a week." Pilar's youngest girl arrived, hungry for gossip as always.

"She's a good girl, our lady. It took a week for her to come around, but she's…" Pilares went back to whispers again. "She's nothing like that mother of hers, my lord."

That was certainly good to know. And Turgon always trusted Pilares' judgment. The woman was worse than a witch, she had eyes and ears everywhere, she always knew about everything and knew it right.

"What's she like?" he asked the two women.

"Ah, she is very nice, m'lord!" the girl beamed.

"At first we thought she was going to be some bossy, namby-pamby royal softie" Pilar started "But then, on the third or fourth day, she comes into the kitchen and offers to help us peel potatoes! Can you imagine that, m'lord? And she sits down and peels potatoes with me an' Fali and Marla. She says she wants to help and she wants us to teach her cook. She made the lord allow Fali to get some nice fl'wers from the market so that back yard won't look so bleedin' grim. She hangs out the laundry, cuts flowers into them vases, we make a different pie every day. The lady really knows her way around now." The housekeeper finished with a smug grin as if she had anything to do with the little princess being a good wife.

Turgon hummed into his winecup. Torundir appeared in the door with his little princess wife. She really looked what she was now, a princess. The girl waved the serving women away and Torundir sat down to talk with him. Turgon sat and listened.

"So in the end, the King didn't receive me because you _fucked_ his daughter for three months _before_ you married her, and not _because_ you married her."

"The official version offers marrying her as the reason. They didn't allow the background story to spread. Scarcely anybody knows of it, but I wasn't going to lie to you. I really feared there'd be gossip, Gilraen suffered enough as it is, she didn't need another scandal after losing her family to me..." His son explained with a twitch of his mouth. "Father, I'll not apologize for anything concerning her. I do apologize for getting you into this situation too, though."

"You don't need to. You didn't get me into it, being your father got me into it and that was not your choice" he twinkled at him. "You are a grown man, Torundir, you do what you see fit and face the music. You don't need to apologize to me for anything. It's the royal family you owe an apology to, which I'm sure you'll give them in due time. Which is not now, just to make myself clear. Now go and get your sweet little Lady Gilraen here, so I can meet her dressed!" he waved him off and his son shook his head with that _Thank you_ smile of his.

The little princess was sweet as Torundir said and good as Pilares said. She was extremely embarrassed too, over their interrupted love scene and her parents kicking Turgon out of the Citadel. Then she was the most happy and excited when he suggested that Torundir took her to their Maeregard keep in the Bay of Belfalas and his son agreed. Torundir thought the girl needed a tranquil place which would not be a constant reminder of her family and the hurt of losing them. He wanted to cheer her up, to give her the happiness they dreamed of when she ran off to marry him and gave up everybody she loved. Turgon could only agree. Gilraen deserved some joy and peace at last. And it would be nice to have his home crowded and lively again, as it was everything but crowded and lively since his daughter left.

He hunted, sailed and bickered with servants and retainers. Only visitors and tavern girls meant an escape from everyday life and even that escape was not always a pleasant one. The older he grew, the pickier he got about girls and visitors were often troublesome. Torundir's visits were rare and short, though mostly the only ones he welcomed and awaited. His daughter visited only every two years, but at least she brought her children along. Lord Turgon loved when his daughter brought her children along. Thanks the heavens his mother visited even more seldom. He missed the time when his son and daughter were little, the time when his wife was alive. His first wife, the mother of his children. His other wives were all stupid or annoying or both.

Torundir and his little daughter-in-law finally brought some life into his halls. Turgon even wrote a letter to his daughter before the three of them set off from Minas Tirith, in case she might have a mind to bring the children and come to see the little princess. She didn't, but she wrote a twenty inches long letter to her brother telling him off for not letting her know. Then Turgon got another letter, from his mother. Lady Éohild sent a fifty inches long letter with the swiftest rider in whole Rohan telling Turgon off for not inviting her too and for not telling off his son who dared to wed the daughter of that elf-cow. Then she told off Torundir for not asking her leave to wed, not inviting her to the wedding, not letting her know and basically for shacking up with _that woman's _daughter. She even told off Gilraen, who she had never seen, for going near her grandson and having her royal father married to a pointed eared cow rather than to the Lady Éowyn. His mother was really getting senile, but at least they weren't bored for a second.

Torundir rode out with him and his inspectors every day to see the reaping, talk with the fishermen, see the shipbuilders. Maeregard provided one tenth of the royal fleet every year. Once they even took his lady Gilraen with them. They visited the cavemines too, Torundir had half a mind to take Gilraen with them, but Turgon thought it better not to burden the girl with all the things she would see during such excursion. Not yet, at least. She would have plenty of time to learn about their family secrets in the upcoming years. In the evenings they dined together – at least when Torundir didn't take the girl to the shore to dine and swim and do whatever else a man and a woman would do alone in the moonlight. Probably the exact same he and his wife had been doing alone in the moonlight some 35 years ago. Gilraen even reminded him a little of her, though she was a much more able rider than his wife… he should have never let her ride out that day…

It was a miserable thing when after a fortnight's hosting the two finally left for the capital. Turgon made his son promise he'd come down with his little lady next summer when his mother would visit. He had a hard time enduring his mother… His little daughter-in-law thanked him for everything, she was such a sweet little thing. After they left, Lord Turgon wondered for a week if he himself should get a young little wife like Torundir's…

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Before anybody would accuse the poor man of pedophilia, he is joking, okay? He doesn't mean that last sentence and he definitely did _not_ get a young wife like Gilraen...

Please let me know what you think in reviews or PMs :) Chapter 27 - A Thief-Boy from the Street is coming tomorrow at some time, dependent on the mood swings of the internet connection here


	30. Chapter 27 - A Thief-Boy from the Street

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Another favorite of mine. I so love this girl...

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**A THIEF-BOY FROM THE STREET**

Aryana was hungry. All she ate last night was some half rotten apple they found in the visitor's stables. She never understood why her lord father ever had a mind to build a visitor's stable, but now it all made sense. Apart from the many visitors' and foreign traders' and minor guests' horses, the visitor's stables gave home to, in the summer half a dozen, in the winter oft times even two dozen street children. Orphans, children of the poorest, the street children were. And Aryana's friends. Poppy and Fat Harry offered her to sleep with them in the stables, but Fat Harry stank worse than the horse shit in the stables and Poppy already had three little kids sharing her bunk, so Aryana ended up with Daisy in the back yard of a tavern.

Daisy wasn't her name, really, the Mistress gave her that name, because she thought it was cute. She was Astrid for real, thirteen and very nice. The Mistress was her boss, or future boss, she was only a trainee yet. Mistress wasn't her real name either. Aryana didn't know what her real name was. Astrid didn't know it either. Poppy and Fat Harry weren't real names either. Fat Harry had no real name, he was fat and his father was a Haradrim trader who he never knew. His mother worked in a tavern and died when he was very little. But Harry was a fun boy and he had a friend, Wes who was fifteen and a stable boy. He let the children in every night, so they could sleep on the hay in the stables. Astrid thought Wes was good looking and Aryana mused if there was a way for Astrid not to become Daisy, but last two more years on the street and become Wes's wife instead. Commoners didn't have to wait to come of age to marry. Astrid was really afraid of becoming Daisy.

Goodness, she was so hungry. She hadn't eaten anything but apples since yesterday morning's breakfast. That idiot breakfast. And her idiot sisters. And her brother…he was becoming Sybille with a dick. Aryana was so tired of all the conversations going on about what a bloody, shameless whore Gilraen actually was. She missed Gilraen. And she wasn't going to suffer anybody speak ill of her. Not even Eldarion. Astrid said it was a brave thing. Aryana thought it was just stupid. Her lord father always said that running off after a quarrel wasn't solution to the problem. Not like she could solve the problem any way. Well now here she was, on some street on the first level, hungry and tired. Harry was helping Wes every day, he tried to work himself into becoming a stable boy too, Poppy was off collecting food for the little ones and Astrid had to go back to the red house, because the Mistress was always angry when she wandered off. Aryana was left alone in full knowledge that it'd only be hours before soldiers started looking for her on her father's orders. She should just go back to the Citadel. But she could not suffer the shame of going back all by herself. Her lady mother would be furious and Sybille would put on that smug _You deserve this_ face and Brianneth would make faces and Eldarion would laugh at her. If only she could eat something.

She was on the edge of making up her mind to go home when suddenly had a better idea. How it never occurred to her before! She found the First Street quickly and made her way up to the Second Street, the Third, the Fourth and finally the Fifth Street too. The guards gave her queer looks. She was dirty, she knew and dirty girls weren't common up the Fifth Level where all the noble families lived. Aryana looked around twisting her mouth. She had no idea where to go next. Without a better idea she turned into the first street on the left to find a servant or a kind looking guardsman. She couldn't go and ask _any_ guardsman, because they'd not talk to her. And she couldn't tell them she was Princess Aryana, because they would take her home.

It took two hours to find the right street. Aryana hoped it would not take a third hour to find the right house. It didn't. The gate of one mansion was wide open, and she caught sight of _him_ inside the yard. Or at least she thought it was _him_. The man had a large build and no hair. Everything fit. He had to be _him_.

"Hey, boy, what are ya lurkin' around here?" a man barked at her. She didn't even look like a boy! Her dark, dirty hair was tied back and didn't hang longer than her shoulder blades, true, and she was wearing breaches instead of a dress, which hid even that little effeminacy her figure had at 10, but still…

"I'd like to see the lord" she replied. "Can I go in?"

The man laughed at her. Everybody laughed at her when they didn't know she was a princess. And when she was princessing, Eldarion was laughing at her. Aryana never understood why someone was always laughing at her.

"What? You think we'll let you in, 'cause you ask nicely? You're not the most cunning little thief boy I met, I can say."

"I'm not a thief!" Aryana exclaimed.

"'Course not. Go home or lurk somewhere else, you won' steal nothing here."

"I'm not a thief, I want to go in to speak with—"

"Boy, I'm not gonna say again. You won' go in, so go home or go elsewhere, I don' care but piss off" the man gave her a hard look pointed at the street.

Aryana made a face and ducking from the man's grip ran into the yard.

"Hey!" the man yelled and ran after her. She looked back to evade him, just for a minute and the next thing she knew was almost getting knocked off by a pair of large hooves. A horse neighed and she fell to the ground to look up at _him _on the horse.

"What the bloody hell?!"

"Pardons, m'lord" the man from the gate pulled Aryana up by her arm. "Some thief-boy from the street, I'll get rid o' him at once!"

"I wasn't going to steal anything!" Aryana protested angrily. "I want to see my sister!"

They stared at her.

"Princess Aryana" _he_ concluded dismounting.

The man from the gate let go of her arm as though it was hot iron and stared at her too.

"I'll take you to her" _he_ gestured and Aryana followed him. Through the yard, up some stairs, through the main door, along a hallway with tapestries, tall windows and evergreen pots, into a round hall with small tables, water jars, wine flagons, more tapestries and some six doors.

"Gilraen!" _he_ called turning around.

Aryana bit her lips. Was she really going to see her now? She so missed her. Her sister emerged from a doorway on the right. She wore a deep blue dress and a wedding ring. She was even more beautiful than Aryana remembered. And a lot more beautiful than Sybille.

"Yes?" she smiled and her smile froze when she saw Aryana. "Aryana!"

All Aryana could do was run to her and flung her arms around her sister's neck, bury her face into Gilraen's golden braids.

"I missed you so!"

"Oh, darling, I missed you too. What… what are you doing here? How did you get here?" Gilraen asked utterly confused kissing her on both, rather dirty cheeks.

"Stanwick thought she was a thief-boy" _he_ said, her husband.

"You undoubtedly have the look" Gilraen told her and kissed her cheeks again. "But how did you know where we lived?"

"I didn't" Aryana shrugged. "I was just circling around and accidentally saw him in the yard" she pointed at _him_.

"You know him?" Gilraen raised an eye-brow.

"I knew he had no hair" Aryana nodded and they both laughed.

"And where have you been? I bet not on Mother's tea with this look" her sister grinned.

"Just… around… you know" Aryana tried to lie. Even Gilraen would be angry if she told her she hadn't been home for more than a day. Ah, she was an awful liar.

"Aha…" her sister raised an unconvinced eyebrow. "But why did you come here? Never mind, I'm so happy to see you. Have you eaten? I bet no. Are you hungry?"

"Oh… I'm starving" Aryana broke out helplessly.

"Come, I'll get you something to eat. We already had lunch, but there's some leftover. Turkey, some garnish, dessert…"

In ten minutes Aryana was sitting at Gilraen's husband's dining table, eating everything her sister put in front of her. Gilraen was sitting across her, her husband standing by the door, eying her curiously and, as far as Aryana could tell, warily.

"When was the last time you ate?" Gilraen laughed.

"Well… breakfast" Aryana pressed out between two bites of turkey.

"Breakfast was about five hours ago" _he_ observed.

Gilraen lifted her head at the comment and frowned at Aryana. Breakfast time really was only five hours ago and there was nothing that could make her so hungry in mere five hours…

"Fine, yesterday's breakfast" Aryana admitted.

"You are not telling me you hadn't been home since yesterday morning?" Gilraen stared at her horrified and Aryana gave an apologetic shrug. "Aryana, are you crazy? They worry about you! What were you doing? Why didn't you go home?"

"Ah, please. I bet Mother only just noticed I wasn't around. I was supposed to be grounded for yesterday, so they only missed me at today's breakfast… I had a row with Eldarion."

"You had a row with him and left for a whole day, why?"

"You don't know what they were saying. He and Sybille and Bria. About you. And _him_" she gestured at the man.

"I can imagine" Gilraen nodded without giving the slightest hint of being hurt. Gilraen was a good liar. She was probably the best liar of all of them. Otherwise she couldn't have kept her affair with _him_ a secret for months.

"You must write to them. To the King, or your sister or whoever" _he_ said to Gilraen.

"No!" Aryana exclaimed. "I don't want to go back!"

"What do you want to do then?" Gilraen raised an amused eyebrow. "They miss you."

"I don't care. I could stay here. Can I?" she looked at her sister with hopeful eyes.

"No. No, Aryana, you can't. You must go back. To Mother and Father, to your home. They love you, they are your family, you can't stay here" Gilraen shook her head.

"They were your family too and you left too!"

"Yes, but I… I got married. This is my home now."

"And _he_ is your family now!" Aryana shot the man an angry look. Gilraen was _her_ sister first.

"Yes" her sister said sternly. "He is my husband. And stop referring to him as '_he_'" Gilraen was serious. Like Father or Mother. Every time Sybille tried to be serious, she looked ridiculous. Gilraen wasn't ridiculous, she was just serious. Aryana dropped her gaze.

"Okay" she said. "So… Can I stay?" she looked up at them. "My lord." She added. To be respectful. Her parents always wanted her to be respectful. Gilraen's husband chuckled.

"No, Aryana, I'm sorry, but you must go home. We'll talk and discuss everything, but you must go home then." Gilraen told her and she was serious about being sorry too.

"Write to your sister" Gilraen's husband told Gilraen. "Your Highness" he turned to Aryana. It was funny, he never said a word to her so far. It was funny he was talking to her. "If the King and the Queen find out that you are here, before we let them know you are here, they will think your sister abducted you, or I abducted you. They are pissed off enough at us already, if they decide we keep you here without their knowledge, they'll hack off our heads. I understand Your Highness has no concern for my head, but be considerate of your sister, I ask you."

Aryana nodded. "Okay… I don't want them to hack off your head either" she told Gilraen's husband. "My lord." She added again. "And I'm not _Highness_."

"Then I'm not _My lord_ either" Gilraen's husband nodded with a smile.

"I don't remember your name" Aryana confessed with an apologetic grimace. Sybille and Eldarion always mentioned him as 'bastard' or 'scumbag' or 'that awful man'.

"Torundir" Gilraen said looking up as she finished the letter.

"So… I'll go back and never see you again?" Aryana asked her sister starting on the dessert.

"No, darling. You'll see me. You can come here anytime you want, if they let you—"

"They don't!" she cut her across. That was the whole point. Otherwise she wouldn't have waited close two months to visit Gilraen.

"You can write" Gilraen smiled at her sadly. Aryana was about to tell her how writing was no sister and sister relationship when her husband, Torundir spoke again.

"Gilraen will visit me at the Academy sometimes and you might just accidentally bump into her on a hallway. You can write her which hallway."

A wide grin spread across Aryana's face. "I like him" she told Gilraen and he and her sister burst out laughing.

"I like her too" Torundir said to her sister with a chuckle and took her hand. "I'll really be off now, sweet, send after me if something is wrong." Gilraen nodded and smiled at him. "Lady Aryana" he gave Aryana a small smile and left them.

Her sister watched him go, smiling. She turned back to Aryana and pushed another slice of pie in front of her. She ate it without second thought.

"He seems nice" she said munching on the pie.

"He is a good man. I really love him" Gilraen nodded with a smile.

"Do you sleep with him?" Aryana asked.

Her sister looked surprised at the question and replied: "He is my husband."

"Is it bad?"

"Bad?"

"Painful." Aryana corrected.

"What's this sudden interest about man-woman relationships?" Gilraen blinked at her.

"I just have a friend I talked to about this" Aryana shrugged. "So?"

"It's not painful. What sort of friend was that?"

"A girl. She works in a pleasure house." Aryana shrugged again helping herself to more pie.

"You have a whore for a friend?" Gilraen raised an eyebrow half laughing.

"She's not a whore. Yet. Just… an apprentice" She explained.

Her sister really laughed now.

"Shut up, she is nice!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sure she is. I don't know many apprentice whores."

"She's thirteen and she hasn't yet had her first… you know, customer… And she's not really looking forward. She says she is scared. Because other girls say it's bad."

Gilraen grew serious again. That Mother and Father kind of serious. She smiled a serious and sad smile at her. "It can be bad for the first time. She'll get used to it, though and it won't hurt. Physically. How did she get to work in a pleasure house?"

"She's an orphan and some whores found her on the street when she was a baby. She grew up in the pleasure house and the chief whore, the Mistress wants her to work with them. She already gave her a whore name, Daisy. But for real, she wants to marry Wes, the stable boy who lets the street children sleep in the stables. He's my friend too."

"You have interesting friends" Gilraen smiled and gathered the dirty dishes she left behind.

"Is there nothing I can do about her?" Aryana asked.

"Darling… I know it's a bad thing to say, but… no matter how good friends you are, you can't help every street child and stray dog you meet" Gilraen told her with a sad grimace and drew an arm around her. Aryana knew she was right. Still, she wished she could help Astrid.

She stayed with Gilraen for another hour. Her sister showed her around the house, asked her how she was. Finally there was no escape and Gilraen sent the letter ahead to Sybille and walked Aryana up to the Citadel. Sybille was waiting at the gate, irritated, worried, indignant. She thanked Gilraen for returning Aryana swiftly and distantly. Gilraen said it was her pleasure, wished them both a nice day and took her leave. Then Sybille told her off for wandering off again and complained how dirty she was. In the throne room they met Father, Mother and Eldarion who were informed about Aryana by Sybille. They told Aryana off too.

"… Don't you ever run away like that again, do you understand?" her father gave her a stern glance.

"Yes, Father, I'm sorry" Aryana muttered dropping her gaze. Father always made her ashamed of herself when she ran away. He nodded kindly then.

"Now, my dear, come and eat something, you must be hungry. And you must get a bath and clean cloths. You have any idea what you look like?" her mother drew and arm around her shoulder to turn her in the direction of the royal quarters.

"And what you smell like" Sybille added with a grimace and Aryana turned back to give her a dark look.

"She needs to eat first" Mother insisted, but Aryana shrugged off her hands. She was full after eating up Gilraen's leftovers.

"I'm not hungry, I've eaten."

"Some half rotten bread with rat stew in the stables?" Eldarion grinned.

"Stuffed and honeyed turkey on onion and dumplings, spiced fried potatoes with boiled corn, tomatoes and pumpkin, and plum pie for dessert!" Aryana shot out her tongue at him in retort.

"Where did you eat that?" her mother raised a surprised eyebrow.

"Stole it from some nobleman's table, didn't you?" her brother teased again. What was everyone going on about this stealing?!

"No!"

"Oh Valar, you did?" her mother looked at her horrified.

"I just said no! I don't steal!" Aryana exclaimed. Why didn't anybody believe her?

"I do hope you don't" Father said warningly. "Where did you eat that then?" he asked sternly.

Aryana twitched her mouth. They were going to be angry. _Why_ did she have to bring it up?

"Aryana?" her father looked at her. He was serious.

"At Gilraen's" she finally said chewing on the words.

"What?" Father asked looking at Sybille.

"Gilraen found her" Sybille explained uncomfortably. So she didn't tell them about Gilraen's part in her excursion either. Aryana held back a pleased grin, Princess Perfect wasn't telling the truth either, it seemed. "I guess she gave her something to eat, she must have been very hungry. She sent me a note Aryana was with her and brought her home at once…"

Either Sybille was _lying for Gilraen_ or Gilraen was smart enough to word her letter carefully. Probably the latter.

"Aha" their father said dryly and turned back to Aryana. "If I remember correctly, I told you not to visit your sister. You were hungry, all right. But this was the last time I had to hear about you going to her, understood?"

"Yes, Father" she muttered.

"So… I'll have a bath made for you then" her mother said and gestured Aryana ahead.

Resigned, she went and thought about how many times the street children got a bath in a month. Not too many, for sure…

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Aryana is so cute. Isn't she the cutest thing in the world? Reviews and PMs appreciated :) Special thanks to karol89 for her nice and constructive daily reviews :))

Chapter 28 - Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed and Something Blue (yeah, it's long) is coming tonight, because I won't be able to post tomorrow.


	31. Chapter 28 - Old, New, Borrowed and Blue

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

What in goodness' name made me give this title to the chapter? I mean we have old, new, borrowed and blue 'things' here indeed, but how this hit me, I have no idea... Never you mind. And I also didn't think I would ever do a POV like this, but we just needed insight into this house...

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**SOMETHING OLD SOMETHING NEW SOMETHING BORROWED AND SOMETHING BLUE**

"Did you hang out the laundry?" Pilares called at Fali as the girl rushed into the kitchen.

"Aye, and they won' fall no more" she replied. "My lady was so angry when they fell…"

"She was right" Pilares told glaring at her.

"She was angry! She was never angry with me before…" the girl pouted resigned.

Pilares shrugged. Fali had this silly thing that she wanted everybody to like her. Pilares couldn't understand. She herself was just past the fiftyfourth year and half her life the lord was angry with her for one reason or the other. The food was cold, the room was dirty, but mostly because she always told the lord if she didn't like something. For real, the lord liked that in her, otherwise he'd have sent her away years ago, but he always made a row anyways, when Pilares said something. The lady was gentle hearted and always kind, but she was their lady only for a few months, of course it was time that she was angry about something too. No matter how unusual it may be of her.

"Come, we'll clean the lord's office room" she told Fali and they made their way for the hall.

"Wha' was that?" Fali looked up alarmed at a loud clashing sound from upstairs.

Pilares left her without an answer and rushed up the stairs, Fali at her heels. The lady was still in bed and the sound came from the lord's bedchamber. Pilares lived her whole life in this house, she knew every stone, every noise. They had to go and see what happened. Pushing the heavy door open, they found the lady kneeling on the floor over the silver wash basin they heard coming jangling down from the top of the dressing table.

"My lady!" Fali cried out kneeling beside her.

"Are you all right, my lady?" Pilares asked her.

"Do I look all right?!" she snapped at them teary and Fali lifted the wash basin with the remains of yesterday's supper in its bottom. Pilares almost smiled.

"Shall we send for a healer, my lady?" the girl asked, but Pilares waved her off.

"There's no need for healer" she knelt beside the lady too and placed a gentle hand on her arm. "My lady, when did you last have your blood?"

She shook her head. "It's due around now, but I'm never sick when I have it, I just get a headache or a little cramp."

Oh the darling, sweet little lady heart of hers. Pilares thought to tell her. But no, it's better to figure out for herself.

"No, my lady… Has the lord been… visiting your bed often of late?"

That was a ridiculous question, she was actually sharing the lord's bed and they both knew perfectly well he was '_visiting' _between her legs almost every night. But she had to make her see somehow… The Lady Gilraen looked up at her with a musing expression while her right hand slowly wandered to her yet flat belly. She stared down at herself and looked up at Pilares for reassurance. Now, she really couldn't help that warm smile spread across her face and she nodded at her encouragingly.

"Oh…" was all the lady could say as a happy, touched smile occupied her face.

"Come, my lady" Pilares helped her up. "And to this" she gestured at the silver basin. "You must get used to."

"Oh…yes…Will it last all the while?"

"No, my lady, just in the beginning" Pilares fetched a night gown for her and they sat her down onto a stool, but she jumped back up instantly.

"Is Torundir still here?" she asked remembering.

"No, the lord already left. You can tell him in the evening" Fali shook her head smiling and gave her a glass of water.

"Come, my lady, you must break your fast. Whatever you wish to eat? We'll make anything for you, just say what" Pilares smiled at her young lady.

"Oh, no… thank you… I can't eat anything."

"But you must! Think of your baby, my lady, you must feed him too!"

"But I'm still feeling sick…"

"It'll be better if you eat. We can ease it with some sage tea. Fali will make it for you" Pilares waved off the girl to make the tea and Fali left smiling as broadly as if she was the one with child. Well, she was a good girl, always happy for other's happiness.

"How far can I be?" the lady looked up at her.

"Not so far at all. I'll send Marla to bring a midwife to examine you, my lady. She'll be able to tell. You must take good care of yourself now to have a beautiful healthy child…"

"I mustn't drink too much wine, right? Or anything strong. It's said… it's said it somehow makes the baby's head light, and he will be weak and sickly… or … is there anything else you mustn't eat or drink when you have a baby?" she seemed really worried about not knowing anything about babies. Her sweet little lady heart… What was she supposed to know with her very first baby in her belly?

"Don't you worry a moment, my lady. We'll tell you everything. And we'll call the midwife so she can tell you everything too. And friends and relatives always help—"

"No, I don't want to tell anybody. Not just yet… Just… out of superstition, you know. Just till my belly grows" the lady told her.

"Not, if you don't want. But don't you fear a bit for the baby. You are young and healthy, my lady, your child will be just perfectly healthy and fine. There won't be nothing amiss. The lord will be so happy" Pilares assured her smiling. Every woman did this with first babies. Every single woman she had known refused to tell anybody of the first child before it was visible. Women were so fearful for first children.

"You think he will be? I hope he will be. I am happy too" the lady smiled and put her hand on her belly again. All the trouble with the King, all the scandal over their marriage, all the burden of hurt she'd been carrying in her eyes ever since she stepped over their doorstep was gone. She was finally carefreely happy. It was only her joy and her love for the lord's child in her belly in those sapphire eyes. Pilares smiled at her and left her to dress.

She had no appetite all day. That was no good, the lady really needed to eat well. Marla and Fali managed to talk her into having some light dinner at least, light fish, fruits, some soft cheese. They sent for a midwife too, Marla brought some nice woman from the House of Healing. The lady talked with her an hour and by the time the woman left she seemed to feel a lot more confident. Pilares set the table for dinner herself by the time the lord came home. She, Fali and Marla all stood beside the wall in the dining hall. They all wanted to hear and see what he would say.

Finally he came, in a rather ill mood, the lady at his heels.

"What the hell is that?" he pointed at the table glaring at them.

"My lord?" Pilares raised an eyebrow. It was _dinner_. "Fish, carrots—"

"Even poor for breakfast" he cut her across. Well he had a point. The lord was never very fond of soft meals and as his housekeeper for thirteen years, Pilares should have remembered that. They should have made him _proper _dinner as he'd say. The lady seemed to have the exact same thoughts.

"Apologies, my lord, we only made this for the lady's liking" Marla said leering at the floor in front of her feet.

He turned to the lady with a sharp look at once. For a moment, the room fell into heavy, icy, uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry" the lady said, her gentle voice weak and choking. "I'm so sorry, we should have made something else for you, it was my fault. It'll never happen again…"

The lord sat down and pulled a fish to his plate giving it a glare of dislike.

"It should not" was all he replied.

Pilares felt oddly guilty. It was not her fault, in fact, the lady's. It was their fault. Hers, Fali's, Marla's. It was their duty to know what dinner to put in front of their lord… The lady sat down too, sniffing as a tear rolled down her cheeks. That was not the first time during the day and wouldn't be the last in the next few months, Pilares knew.

"What are you crying about now?!" the lord snapped at her bewildered.

"Nothing" she replied quickly trying to pull herself together as fast as possible.

His eyes found them, then. Standing by the door, looking. He never liked being looked at, the lord, he always said he was neither pretty, nor a monkey, so there was no reason to stare.

"Don't you have work to do?" his voice cracked like a whip.

"We are just waiting to pack the dishes, my lord" Pilares said quickly.

They finished eating in silence. When they were done, the lady finally rose taking the wine flagon and walked over to the lord. She poured him. Pilares exchanged a look with Fali and Marla. They couldn't wait to see what was coming next too. He nodded thanking her. She didn't move. He raised an eyebrow at her sharply.

"Yes?!"

"I… there's something I'd like to tell you…" The lady said standing from one foot to the other.

"Do so."

"I…" she started wringing her hands. "I think… no, that's stupid. I don't just _think_, I actually _am _…" she took a deep breath before she went on. "…with child."

All hardness melted away from the lord's face as he processed her words.

"You are with child" he repeated. His mouth was already half curving into a smile. "We'll have a child?"

"Yes" the lady replied in a thin voice giving a small nod.

The lord stood and kissed her without a second thought. The next moment he was spooning her into his arms, spinning her around, never ending their kiss. Pilares thought she was going to cry. She was too old and hard for that, but Fali and Marla were wiping at their eyes already.

"You have no idea how happy you made me" the lord was saying to the lady as their kiss broke and she was finally laughing again, hugging him. "My sweet darling love."

"I'm so happy you are happy! I'm so sorry about the dinner, I promise it'll never—"

"I piss on the dinner" he laughed and kissed her again starting for the door. To carry her upstairs, lay her on the bed and love her as he had never before, Pilares knew, rolling her mind's eyes. He was such a difficult man to endure. She just hoped the lady loved him enough to endure him for the rest of their lives.

"So, the show is over" the lord told the three of them with an apologetic grin. "You can all go on your business now." And he left with the lady in his arms.

Pilares had never seen either of them as happy as in the next weeks. All worry, fear, guilt, shame and sadness was gone from the lady, she was radiating with happiness, glowing with that special beauty of motherhood. The lord was generally in great spirits and he paid special attention to be gentle with the lady no matter how tired or irritated he was over some business. They always broke their fast together, the lady insisted on getting up with the lord, only after he left, did she go back to rest more, if she need it.

Pilares was setting the table for breakfast when they came down one morning.

"... I fit in all my dresses so far"

"So far. But by the time they finish what you order now, you won't. You know how all tailors under that Hullas man or whatshisname sleep through half their working time."

"My lord, my lady. Good morning!" Pilares interjected with a smile.

"Yes, yes 'morning…" the lord nodded at her impatiently.

"Good morning!" the lady smiled at her kindly.

"So go and get some clothing made, my sweet, will you?"

"Yes, fine, my lord" she smiled at him joking. "I will. Bread?"

"Thank you. Pilares, you go with her and see that she does." He looked up at Pilares who nodded in agreement.

Pilares left them soon after that, Fali should be back with the laundry soon, and she would check if it was well washed. So far she had to send it all back to the washerwomen three times this week. She had no idea if that was Fali's or the washerwoman's fault, but she liked Fali, no matter how rush and empty headed she was, so Pilares liked to think it was the washerwomen. But this time, the laundry was fine so she could already send it out to be hanged out by the time the lord and lady finished breakfast.

"Pilares, I don't remember how many times I said this, but it'd be pleasant if my boots were finally kept in the same place and not in three different and possibly even distant corners of this bloody house…"

Pilares made a face and nodded. "Yes, my lord" He made a face at her too. That was their custom for more than a decade, making faces at each other.

"And you" he turned to the lady then. "You eat well, understood, my sweet? I'll not have you starve my child" he added with a grin and she promised to eat well laughing. "And have a dress made. Today. Not tomorrow or next week or anything like that."

"Fine, I'll go today. It's a nice weather anyways, will be good to ride out" the lady gave in with a smile. Pilares was sure that was something the lord would not approve, though.

"No" he said at once, with ultimate finality. "You will not ride while you are pregnant."

"What? But why? It's not like I can't manage horse riding—"

"My mother died just like that. So _you_ will not sit a horse while you are with child, understood?" the lord cut her across flatly. She gaped at him.

"I had no idea… I'm sorry."

"That's fine, now you do" he said with the slightest shrug of his shoulder. He was over it. It was only the Lord Turgon who never really got over losing his wife. "Just don't ride while you are pregnant, right?"

"Right. I won't" the lady promised gently.

"Good" he smiled. "I'll see you… hopefully at supper" he kissed her brow fondly and left.

"I had no idea…" the lady muttered to Pilares. "That his mother died falling from horseback… and she was pregnant… and her baby?" she looked up.

"Didn' survive either" Pilares said uncomfortably. "But they don' like to talk about this, the lord and Lord Turgon, my lady, don' like anybody else to talk of it… so we don't. You should ask the Lord Torundir himself if you want to, my lady…"

To draw her attention away, Pilares put the question of the badly washed laundry to the lady. She suggested they find other washerwomen and asked Pilares to walk with her to the tailor shop. She promised she would go and take Marla with them, who insisted they needed rushes and bedclothes too. Marla was in charge of cleaning the bedrooms, she always knew these things.

In one hour's time they were trying to make the shopkeeper understand why he had nothing to do with why the lady wanted dresses laced only to breast line instead of waist. Pilares wondered if they should find a new tailor too… The rushes were no problem at least. The tailor covered the counter with different fabrics, soft, harder, thick, thinner. The lady and Marla picked.

They were almost done when the door of the tailor shop opened behind them with light jingling.

"… Of course it counts!" a female voice rang laughing. "Your Grace must help me so I can choose a dress to your liking!"

Pilares saw the lady's face freezing and followed as her lady slowly turned around. The Prince Eldarion was standing in the door with a raven haired lady on his arm. He stood petrified at the sight of his sister, the girl with him looked from the lady to the Prince, there and back again, puzzled and aghast.

"So this is where you come to buy a dress, my lady?" he told to the girl who nodded confused. "You should do your shopping elsewhere. It'd not do for you to shop in the same store soiled snots' whores do"

The lady gaped and looked at Pilares with hurt and astonishment. She turned back to the Prince with a pitiful look.

"Well… at least I have the honor to do my shopping in the same place spoilt stuck-up princes' whores do."

It all happened in a split second. The Prince's eyes darkened, fury overran his face as he leapt forth and the lady lurched back against the counter at the force he back-handed her with. The shopkeeper gasped in indignation, Marla jumped to catch the lady from falling with a cry, the girl with the prince let out a small squall. Pilares stared at the prince dumbstruck.

"Don't you ever dare insult me again!" he rasped in fury and taking his lady stormed out of the shop.

"My lady?" Pilares turned to the lady at once. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, bright crimson blood leaking from her nose and cracked upper lip. She straightened with a heavy breath.

"I'm fine… It was a mistake to talk back to him…" she muttered and pressed a hand to her lip and nose. "Ah… is it visible?" she asked.

"Yes" Pilares replied with a frowning glare.

"Do you need a handkerchief, my lady?" the shopkeeper found his voice too.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you. Er… we'll take the bedsets, just count it all, please!"

They paid and followed the lady out of the store. She wanted to go home at once. Marla offered her the handkerchief the shopkeeper sent with them. Pilares carried the rushes and bedclothes while Marla drew an arm around the lady and placed the handkerchief against her lips, already turning into a bluish color around the bruise.

"You know, my lady, it is lucky that your brother is the prince." She heard Marla say.

"Why would that be lucky for me?" The lady looked at the maid puzzled.

"Not for you. For him. If he weren' the prince, the lord would kill him for this."

* * *

Yeah... the lord would definitely rip out his entrails and strangle him with them, weren't he the prince. Please don't rush into judging Eldarion (or me for making him do this) before you read his thoughts on this affair...

Reviews and comments are most welcome, as always :) Next chapter will be here on Sunday, Chapter 29 - Hard to Say Goodbye


	32. Chapter 29 - Hard to Say Goodbye

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

A goodbye is not easy... not even for the toughtest.

* * *

**HARD TO SAY GOODBYE**

If it was September, why was it still so bloody hot? Even the damned pipe was going out. Inhaling the smoke of the very last leaves burning to ashes inside the pipe, he stood and thought where to go first. To Barahin, or to his wife. He wasn't ready to talk to Gilraen yet, so decided to visit his friend first.

Torundir walked down to the fifth level and turned for the street Barahin's manse stood on. He hoped his friend would be home. Ëlyel received him, rather surprised and brought him to her husband.

"Torundir. I'd expect you least at this time of the day."

"I'd agree. Do you have some time?"

"Of course. Please" Barahin gestured at a chair. "Would you get us some wine, my dear?" he glanced at Ëlyel.

"I'll send it at once" she smiled.

"Something strong, my lady, if possible."

Ëlyel left and Barahin frowned at him with a curious look.

"What's wrong?"

Torundir told him. Everything as it was, without making it nice, without making it sound light. Barahin listened, gaped, drank and listened. He was a good lad, Torundir's own training.

"_Three hundred_? He said he would give you _three hundred_ men?" he shook his head not believing his ears. Torundir nodded.

"Not he, Faramir said. He didn't even see me. You know, the offense, the insult…" the man gave a mirthless chuckle and shook his head.

"He is really wroth with you, isn't he?"

"I suspect they expected Gilraen back around this time… She's still with me and still happy with it, though. Imagine how displeased the queen must be…" Torundir chuckled again.

"But it's insane. How the hell does he expect you to take back a fortress with three hundred men?" Barahin refilled their cups.

"Well, either he simply doesn't, or decided that if Elrond made him do something grand to give him the queen, the world will only be put to its rights if I do something grand to deserve his daughter too… It doesn't really matter" Torundir shrugged.

"The first version is the queen. The King'd have done it clean and hacked off your head if he'd wanted to. I imagine he expects you to earn his daughter now…" Barahin nodded slowly.

"Earn his daughter, huh?" He snorted. "By losing her?"

Barahin raised an eyebrow.

"But I'll make damn sure the bloody bastards sitting in that bleeding city laughing in their fucking sleeves will earn what they deserve too…"

"And how do you even plan to do that with three hundred men?" Barahin shook his head with a doubtful tone.

"Well what do you think I'm going to do, Barahin?" Torundir snapped at the man. "If the King sends me to take that fucking city back, I'll not come back without taking that fucking city back. That's my duty. And I'll not try to escape it or give it up without trying on personal grounds!"

"Of course you'll take it back, but in the process you might want to pay attention to keeping your head!" his friend grumbled. "You have someone expecting you back now, you know…"

"Better than you, I assure you!" Torundir rounded on him. "Sorry…" he added remembering himself and went on. "That's why I came to you. To ask you a favor."

"Ask away, then."

Torundir sniffed in the empty air. "I'd like you to take care of Gilraen if I don't come back."

"We just agreed you would come back—"

"Yes, don't think that I don't intend to come back. But a ten feet thick brick wall with five hundred men inside and three hundred outside doesn't favor the ones outside. So if, by any chance, I would not come back—"

"Torundir..." Barahin interrupted with a painful grimace.

"Would you just shut up and listen to me? If, by any chance, I would not come back, I must know that someone will take care of her, should her family not reconcile with her. I want her to stay in my house, she'll have enough money - no matter how differently it may seem to you, I don't play away my coin. Just make sure she's safe. Make sure she has everything she needs, she can do everything she wants…"

"Torundir, if you don't come back, your incomes will be declared stray. Lacking an heir, the crown and the royal treasury will claim it all."

Torundir shook his head. "Gilraen is with child."

Barahin gaped at him. "I didn't know. Congratulations."

Torundir broke into a bitter laughter. "Aye… thanks..."

"Fine" his friend went on. "Fine, she is with child. But if she has a girl…"

"Then at least she can stay in my house until she delivers. If she has a boy, she can stay as long as she likes. I want you to make sure that is so, Barahin. And I want you to try to reconcile her with her family too… Please."

Barahin was leering at him silently. "I will. I give you my word, I'll take care of your wife if anything should happen to you."

"Thank you, brother" Torundir nodded and patted him on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Torundir" Barahin shook his head.

Aye, he was sorry too. A battle was a good thing, makes one use his skills so the muscles won't get rusty before time. Makes one use his brains, makes one get some pep. But the timing really couldn't have been worse. Especially when one had such low chances of returning from battle to see his first born child. Well he probably had children before on tavern girls or something, but he didn't even know about them and it wasn't the same thing as an own child he watched growing inside his wife's body for months. His own child he caressed through Gilraen's belly, their own child they talked to, made plans for and loved.

"How much chance do you think I stand to see my son or daughter born?" he asked Barahin glancing up from his boots. "Will I be back in half a year? Will I be back at all?"

"If I had to vouch for someone who has the will to come back from taking a fortress with three hundred men and what's more, to come back in time, that'd be you" Barahin nodded musing.

Torundir stood. He hated self-pity and now he had already sunk deep enough in bleeding self-pity to get a headache from his own thoughts. "I hope you are right. I must go. Thank you. For everything."

Barahin stood too, they shook hands and he gave him a brotherly embrace. He always felt like a younger brother, Barahin...

At home, he spoke with the servants first, then, he told Pilares to fetch Gilraen. She felt something was wrong at once.

"What happened, what's wrong? Why do you want to speak with me?"

"Leave us" Torundir said to Pilares who left without a word. "Gilraen…" he started and sat her down taking her small hands in his. "I have to leave."

She looked puzzled. "Where? When will you come back?"

"To Nen Falastir. I don't know when I'll come back."

"Why not? Where is Nen Falastir?" Gilraen looked at him desperately.

"It's a border fortress. By the sea. By Harad."

"No" she understood. "No" she shook her head. "You can't."

"I must. The King—"

"Talk to him. I'll talk to him—"

"You'll not talk to anyone, you'll listen to me" he cut her across gently, but firmly. "They sent some new protégé who sacked Nen Falastir. They left a castellan with five hundred men to hold it so they can move on and take the rest of the harbor fortresses along the shore. The King wants it back."

"No he doesn't. He just wants you dead." She snapped in desperation.

"He could have easily killed me if he wanted to. He wants that fortress back. And me as far from you as possible for that matter." He wasn't going to lie to her more than he really had to.

"And can you… take this city back?" Gilraen tried to pull herself together, but it was going very poorly. He almost laughed at her effort, it was really lovely at some point.

"I don't know. You can never know with battles and sieges. Maybe I can. Maybe I can't" he stroked her cheek. Her lip already healed. Torundir hoped he would die before King Aragorn. After this little affair, he'd have a hard time giving the same loyalty to Eldarion. Either case, the time was not right for dying yet.

"Would it change anything if I asked him not to send you away?"

"Don't you dare go asking that they don't send me away!" he glared at her angrily. "I'm a man, Gilraen, if I must go to battle, I will! That is my duty, you have to understand that! Yours is to wait for my return."

"Then promise me you'll return!" she broke at that. Tears filled her eyes, as she struggled hard to hold them back, to stay strong for his sake and tears rolled down her sweet cheeks, as she failed at the attempt. "You can't leave us…" She sniffed desperately, clutching her belly, already budging slightly. The very sight of her broke the heart he never knew he had. How could he promise her such? But he didn't have it in him to break her even further either. She was so happy, expecting their child. Should he tell her he is unlikely to come back to her?

"I will return" he brought her into his arms. "Shhh. Gilraen. Listen to me, my sweet" he gave her a fond smile and she sniffed with a chukle. "You have to promise me some things too." "That you'll eat well." She chuckled again trying to wipe away her tears. "That you'll take care of yourself." She rested her head on his shoulder. "That you'll not come down to wave me goodbye tomorrow…" Tears ran over her eyes again.

"Tomorrow?!"

"…That you'll not cry when I leave. This is not easy anyways. Don't make it harder, please."

"I won't" she promised and rubbed away the salty streams around her reddened eyes.

"Good" he smiled at her and stroked away the golden locks from her face. "And now enough of the tears. We still have some time together and I want to make that something to remember for you and myself too."

He lifted her and his darling sweet princess, his beloved angle wife buried her face into his chest, drawing her arms around his neck tightly. He carried her up to their bedchamber and lowered her onto the bed. They made love for hours. Inside Gilraen was home, solace, peace and paradise. Afterwards, they talked in each other's arms until Gilraen couldn't go on any longer and fell asleep. Torundir lay awake for a while. He watched his wife sleep. He caressed her face, her arms, her belly. She was ridiculously beautiful since she was pregnant. Her skin was softer than a peach freshly ripened, her breasts were swollen, her eyes sparkled all the time. Her hair shined and always smelled of coconut. He figured she treated it with some coconut milk or oil. She was the most gorgeous woman in the world. Torundir placed a kiss on her head and pulled a cover over her small body.

He remembered when the King threw her out. He had thought they were going to lose everything then. And he had realized he didn't mind. Back then he had decided all they needed were two horses. Then, they could ride away, find some nice village to live in, build a house, get some pigs they could eat and some grapes to make wine of. They could eat, drink, ride, have children. In the end they didn't lose everything. He was going to lose everything now. Along with her. Can he allow that to happen? No. He pulled a cover over himself too, closed his arms around Gilraen and fell asleep.

In the morning he woke as sure of himself as ever.

"Sweetheart" he called at Gilraen gently once he dressed. She opened her eyes and blinked up at him, her eyes widening into a half scared half intimidated stare. Torundir raised an eyebrow, but then understood the next moment. She had never seen him in full armor before, in plate and ringmail, hard leather and swordbelt. She got out of bed.

"It's still dark…"

"It'll be dawn soon."

"I'll get dressed in a moment."

He nodded and left her. Pilares prepared breakfast. Cold bacon and eggs. He hated cold bacon. Bacon was supposed to be hot and burned. He felt obliged to note that to the housekeeper who did nothing but smile at the comment. Stupid annoying old wench who always grinned when she displeased him…

He was giving the last instructions when Gilraen came down. She was wearing the crimson dress. Torundir really liked that crimson dress. He brought her into his arms.

"You will run the household. They will obey, send after me if they don't, and I'll send someone back to kick their bloody arses right. You know how the things go, you know where you find gold, you know everything. They'll help you."

"I'll do my best. And you'll come back and tell how I did" she nodded managing a smile.

"Take care of yourself. And the baby" he told her and pulled her into a tight hug. She cupped his face and kissed him.

"And to you, all good fortune and glory. Stay safe as much as you can… and come back to us" she pressed out. She was keeping her word. She wasn't crying. He would keep his too. And come back to them.

"Take care, my love" he brushed her cheek and turned to leave. He hated how hard the bloody fucking goodbyes always had to be.

All the way down to the first level he was working on getting Gilraen out of his head. He needed to concentrate on his men now. To count them, to speak a few words to every group of ten, to get to know what sort of material he had. They were all there, every one of the three hundred men. Torundir didn't know any of them, which was a lucky thing. They were due to depart at first light. He wondered how many of them will come back. He intended to be one of the lucky few. He wanted to see his child. And Torundir always got what he wanted. He got to command in battle, he got a seat on the Officer's Council. He got a position to teach at the Academy. He got Gilraen.

Three hundred men formed up at his command. The guardsmen opened the city gate wide. The sun was coming up. Torundir rode a circle in front of his men.

"Gentlemen!" he called at them. "The Haradrim bastards left five hundred men in Nen Falastir. And no women to keep them company. So now it's left to us to go fuck them!"

Three hundred men kicked their horses into gallop amidst cheering and rode out of Minas Tirith behind him.

* * *

Oh nooo~ Haha, okay, I stop. Please don't judge/hate Aragorn/Me for this, before you know what his notion was (because you will. know what his notion was, I mean).

Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think :) Next Chapter is coming... omg... on Monday night, I should think. It'll be Chapter 30 - Homecoming.

Oh one more thing. Shall I post a picture? Like a cover image? I should be having something on my other laptop I believe, some old stuff we mashed up with a friend of mine in the summer.


	33. Chapter 30 - Homecoming

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Here's a looooooooooooong chapter. And please let me know in a review if you would like to see picture to illustrate this story. Thank you very much!

* * *

HOMECOMING

She still had doubts whether this was a good idea and the right thing to do as she followed the fat serving woman to the garden. The house looked funny, she couldn't live in a place like this, she was sure. It was too dark and there were too many stones.

"My lady, you have a visitor" the serving woman was saying as they stepped out into an inner yard with fruit trees, giant stone pots and a marble table her sister was sitting at.

"Sybille!" Gilraen looked utterly shocked to see her, it seemed.

"I hope I do not disturb, I never wrote I would visit you" Sybille offered as good manners expected. "Do you mind?"

"No, not at all. I'm… I'm really glad to see you" Gilraen stood and made a movement as though she wanted to hug her. But then, she probably realized they haven't talked for months and decided not to. Well they did talk, about five sentences, on Lord Barahin's feast and when Gilraen brought Aryana home. "Please, take a seat. Would you like a tea? Or some cakes?" her sister sent the fat serving woman to fetch cakes and tea. "And… what brings you here?"

"I heard that…" Sybille struggled to find the right word. She was talking to Gilraen, so '_bastard_', '_scum_' and '_sleazebag_' weren't playing. "That your husband left. And I thought I would come and see if… you know, you are all right and all."

"Oh" Gilraen looked surprised. "Thank you."

"So, are you all right? I mean it must be difficult for you… that he left." This was crazy, it was so awkward, she should just stand and leave. It was so embarrassing.

"I'm fine… it's not easy, but I'm all right…" her sister said. It wasn't really convincing though, Gilraen looked simply scared and alone... Maybe she really needed someone… And Sybille might just be this someone.

"And… is there anything I can do for you?" she asked Gilraen.

"Oh…erm… no, I don't think so. I mean thank you for offering, really... It means a lot." Her sister stammered, rather lost in the situation. Sybille could understand that with all her heart. If she thought about it closely, she had a hard time believing they were actually twins. They spent their lives together, they shared a womb. And now… they hadn't talked for more than four months. It was so difficult to talk again.

"And how are you?" Sybille asked Gilraen, just to ask something.

"I'm fine" her sister replied with a smile. Then the both choked into an incredulous chuckle.

"Ah, goodness, I'm pathetic, aren't I?" Sybille broke out. "I'm trying so hard! I told him, it wouldn't work, goodness, I haven't talked to you for months, what could we say to each other now? Honestly… Ah, Aryana was right."

"No, Sybille, it's all right. I'm pathetic too" Gilraen shook her head. "I'm just so surprised you came and I've been a little absent lately, I'm sorry. Aryana asked you to come here?"

"No, we just had a row, you know. She is horrible, she can't behave, we fight all the time. So I was saying something and she got mad and told me all these horrible things about what an awful person I am. And I thought about it. Since you left, I don't have someone I can talk to all the time" Sybille gave a chuckle "So I think more, I guess… And I find that I prefer talking." She chuckled again. "So I was thinking about what she said… and at some point she had the right of it I guess… And I talked to Florian about this. The things Aryana said and about you. He was so sweet, you can't imagine, he said I should just prove Aryana wrong, because she is wrong. So now I decided to be a better person and Florian said that I should start proving that by visiting you, because Aryana was right about you. That you must be very lonely. I know you were lying. I know you are not fine at all. It's enough to look at you."

"I see" Gilraen nodded. Her eyes were shining with tears. "Thank you. Thank you so much. I'm really happy to see you. I missed you, you know. I missed all the talking" she smiled at her and Sybille gave an uncomfortable laugh.

"Are you very sad?" she asked Gilraen. She couldn't imagine Florian leaving.

"I'm... worried" Gilraen replied quietly. "And how are you Sybille? Are you already into wedding preparations?"

"Oh, I'm fine" they both chuckled again. "And the wedding… Father doesn't want us to wed before I turn eighteen and that's still quite long to wait. And I'm starting to think that _once_ I turn eighteen, he'll come up with something to put off our wedding until I turn _nineteen_…" Sybille grimaced.

"I'm sure it'll be worth it" Gilraen smiled and offered her more cakes.

"This is really good you know, what's this?" Sybille accepted. The colorful little cakes made a good topic.

"Macaron. They make it in miscellaneous tastes and colors" her sister explained. "The pink ones are grapes ones with cream fill, the green ones are colored with mint leaves and filled with chocolate."

"Where did you get them?"

"We made them. Well, mostly just Pilares. She is our housekeeper" Gilraen added. "It's incredibly difficult, I have a hard time learning how to make them."

"You made them? Wow" Sybille didn't know whether she should laugh or not. Well, this was something like Gilraen, in fact. Making cakes by herself…

"And you decided on your wedding dress already?" Gilraen asked, just to ask something. It was still going very oddly, but at least they were trying.

"Oh no… not yet. There are so many things I can't make up my mind about…" A real question popped into her mind, but she wasn't sure Gilraen would like it. In fact, it was Gilraen who left them, who insulted them, so practically Sybille should not be making a fuss about trying not to ask anything indiscreet. At the same time… that awful husband of hers might just never come back to her… "What sort of dress did you wed in?" She asked her sister. "What was your wedding like? We only ever learnt that you two were married and nothing more…"

"Oh" She was right, it seemed, the question did touch Gilraen a little, but in a good way as a nostalgic smile spread across her face. "It was nothing like your wedding is going to be. We were wedded at sunset, in this small by-chapel of the ceremony hall. I didn't even have a proper wedding dress. I didn't even know we were going to be wedded until two hours before we were so. I was here, unpacking my things, when Torundir came and told me to put on something white and go with him." Gilraen chuckled at the memory. "I wore that yellow-white dress we had made for Prince Imrahil's wedding last summer, but we never went to his wedding in the end… All in all it must have been really ridiculous, but we were too in love to realize. When he pulled this on my finger" she lifted her hand gesturing at the ring sitting on it "I was the happiest person in the world. For that one second I even forgot that to be standing there, I gave you all up." Gilraen turned away her gaze to hide some tears and when she turned back she just gave Sybille a smile.

It was probably really ridiculous, Sybille had to agree. But it was also something romantic in its creepy way.

"I'm sure it wasn't ridiculous at all" Sybille decided to say.

"How are Mother and Father?" Gilraen asked. "Do they still hate me a lot?" Her voice was thick with guilt.

Sybille shook her head. "They don't hate you. They were very very angry and very very hurt. But they expected you back. We all thought that…" she bit her lip. "That your marriage was not going to last and that you'll come back to us in a few months…But you didn't. And I guess that wounded them even more. They are still expecting you back, though. Mother never had a thing moved in your room. She never says she misses you, but I can tell she so does."

"I never wanted to hurt her…Or Father… Or you… Or Eldarion…"

"He said he met you. About a month ago, I guess."

"Yes. We met. Did he say anything about it?"

"No" Sybille shook her head. "Only that he met you."

Gilraen nodded.

"Brianneth met your husband."

"She did?" her sister looked interested. "He never said."

"Well she just saw him at the Academy sometimes, I think."

"Oh, I see."

"She said he was ugly" Sybille noted before remembering that telling Gilraen how Brianneth found her husband ugly wasn't really the way to cheer her sister.

"You said the same" Gilraen shrugged with a small smile.

"And do you have somebody to talk to here? Or you are all alone?"

"No, it's not like this, usually. All calm and quiet. We had the shutters painted last week. The painter was a disaster. And Lord Barahin and Ëlyel came to see me too. And Lady Salarien."

Sybille nodded. She figured Lady Ëlyel would come to see Gilraen too, they really looked like good friends at the feast. As for shutters… Sybille had no idea about shutters. Or painters.

They talked for another half an hour before Sybille decided she would go. Gilraen thanked her for visiting and she really seemed to mean it. After all it was a good thing to visit her. It made Sybille feel like a better person. And she missed Gilraen too. No matter how awkward this whole conversation was. She promised she would come and visit her again soon.

After she left Gilraen's, she visited Florian before going home. She told him all about what happened.

"It is a good thing you went to see her. She really needs you. And you miss her, don't even tell me you don't, my dear."

"I do…" Sybille grimaced. She would not admit to missing Gilraen to anybody, but Florian. But after visiting her, after talking to her twin sister after four months of separation she found she missed her more than ever. Gilraen was her twin, they were so different it was true, but still, there was some understanding between them. They somehow complemented each other. She talked, Gilraen listened. She was a dreamer, Gilraen down to earth. She liked blond young handsome men, Gilraen liked shaven ugly old men. She preferred splendor, Gilraen simplicity. And they kind of kept each other in balance for what, fifteen years? Sixteen? Only the last year was rather rough. Sybille missed that balance.

Next time she could visit Gilraen was two weeks later. Sybille never spoke of visiting her to anybody, but Florian. She didn't even tell Mother or Eldarion. It was better that way. Eldarion was still very angry with Gilraen and Mother preferred not talking about Gilraen, because even thinking about having lost her daughter wounded her beyond words. Not like she would ever admit to that.

Again, Sybille found her sister in the garden by the round marble table. And Gilraen was surprised to see her again. Was she really that unreliable and neglecting?

"I promised I'd visit again, here I am" she told her.

"I'm happy to see you again" her sister smiled. She had made some sort of pie this time. That was very delicious too.

"How are you?" Sybille asked.

"Fine…" Gilraen replied absently.

"Gilraen, you are not fine. You don't need to tell me you are fine when you are not."

"I don't want to burden you with this…" her sister smiled.

"Why not? You can tell me. I will listen. I can listen. Not just talk, I can also listen. You always listened to me and I always burdened you—"

"It wasn't a burden to listen to you" Gilraen interjected.

"I know! You always listened, whatever I talked about. You listened when I was prancing around the room in happiness, when I was crying around because I was in love or couldn't go to a feast. You helped me so much when Florian started courting me, you were always there for me. And I was never there for you, I abandoned you when you needed me, I said you should love somebody else. I am as evil and awful as Aryana says!"

"You are not evil and awful, Sybille—"

"No, I'm not! I don't want to be! So let me help you, let me be here for you now!" She finished passionately. Gilraen looked over flooded with emotion. "So. How are you? And don't tell me you are fine, because I know you are not."

"I'm…" Her sister broke down. Hard and abruptly. "I'm so scared. I'm scared all the time, I'm so afraid. It's so difficult, you have no idea. He left and I… I have no idea if I'll ever see him again. He is all I have!" tears were spilling from her eyes. "I miss him so much. I miss you too. I miss you all. You, Mother, Father, Aryana, Brianneth, even Eldarion. I miss you all. You can't imagine Sybille, I never wanted to hurt you, heaven be my witness, I never did. I'm so sorry for everything, it was wrong what we did. I know it was wrong, we knew it all along. I was just unhappy and he was the only thing that gave me hope or… joy or… And now I lost him too! Lost him like I lost you all" Gilraen was now shaking with sobs.

Sybille just stared. She had no idea what to say.

"Oh Gilraen…" she stood and walked over to her sister and drew an arm around her shoulder. "Shh, it's going to be all right."

"How do you know? How can you know? What if something happens to him? I can't lose him, I can't. I love him…" Gilraen sobbed while she tried to dry her tears with one hand and she hugged herself with the other to keep herself from trembling. All Sybille could do was hug her too. "And if… if he… if he doesn't come back? What will happen to us? What will we do? We'll be left all alone without him…"

Sybille was losing track at the plural form, but it didn't really matter. She had to calm her sister somehow. She crouched in front of her and took Gilraen's hand in hers.

"Gilraen, listen to me, he'll be all right…" she started gently, but the arrival of her sister's servants interrupted her.

"My lady? My lady, what's wrong? Please don't cry!" a younger copper haired girl knelt beside Gilraen who was still sobbing, hugging her belly. Sybille blinked.

She let go of Gilraen's hand as if it was made of hot iron.

"Oh my goodness!" she cried staring at her sister. "Goodness, you are _pregnant_?"

That finally made Gilraen stop crying and she looked up at Sybille half confused, half frightened.

"How d—" then she noticed her hand on her belly too. "Oh…" she removed her hand making the soft swell visible. "Yes."

Sybille just stared. She had never noticed it last time she was here and Gilraen never said a word. Goodness, she was pregnant. She was going to have _a baby_. And her husband…

"Oh, darling" Sybille swept her into her arms. "Oh, Gilraen, you'll be fine. He… he will be all right. And he'll come back. I pray he does…"

"My lady, the lord will be safe" the maid beside them said. "He's a great warrior and he loves you so, he'll come back!"

"Thanks… Marla… can you get me a tea please?" Gilraen managed and the girl rushed off at once. She looked at Sybille then. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you… I just didn't know how…" she choked on the words putting her hand back on her belly.

"It doesn't matter. Listen, Gilraen, you'll be fine, okay? I promise you. I'll come to see how you are every week, all right? You mustn't cry more, darling, it's bad for the baby. I'll come every week and we'll talk. About everything. I'll tell you about the wedding preparations, and the little sisters and Eldarion and everything. You'll tell me about anything you like too. You'll not be left alone, I promise."

"Sybille… I… I really don't know how to thank you for this. I so don't deserve this…"

"How can you say that? Of course you do. Here's your tea" the maid came back and Sybille took the cup from her hand to pass it to Gilraen. "Drink, you'll be calmer then."

It took another tea and some ten more minutes to calm Gilraen completely.

"Can I ask you something?" Sybille asked in a low voice.

"Whatever you like."

"Does he know?" her sister blinked. "Your husband… about the baby."

"Yes. Yes, of course."

"And he left anyways?" Sybille stared in horror.

"He was sent. He had no choice." Gilraen replied stiffly.

That was true enough. Their father sent him. Oh no…

"Does Father know?"

"No! No. And please don't tell them" Gilraen shook her head.

"Why not? If he knew about the baby he wouldn't have sent him away."

"Torundir didn't want Father to know about it just yet because he didn't want him to treat him differently or be soft on him or anything only because I'm pregnant. And you can never know, Father might just be even angrier with us if he learned about it."

That was true too. And at least her husband had some spine… that he didn't want to escape his duty on the account of a baby.

"Right, I won't tell them. But they'll learn about it at some point. You'll chance meet them somewhere and they see your belly. And by that time it'll even be unmistakable." Sybille told her. "How far are you, anyways?"

"About four moons" Gilraen said. Goodness that was almost halfway…

"Can I touch it?" Sybille asked her laughing. She wanted to know what it felt like.

"Oh… you can, if you want" her sister smiled.

Sybille pushed a finger against her belly gently. It was hard, but in a soft way. Gilraen burst out laughing.

"Babies don't bite, you know" she grinned.

"Fine, okay, I just didn't know if it would hurt or anything" Sybille laughed at herself and lay her whole palm against Gilraen's baby-belly. "Can it feel my hand?"

"Yes, I think so. Maybe it's warmer under your hand."

"Wow… it's funny" Sybille giggled and withdrew her hand. She couldn't imagine being pregnant. She wanted a baby too, with Florian when they were married, but she couldn't imagine herself during the time between the wedding and holding the baby in her arms. Pregnancy was funny and scary. She couldn't even imagine making that baby, not to mention delivering it.

She left Gilraen shortly before dusk. With every passing night the days grew shorter, it wasn't yet six o'clock but almost dark already when Sybille arrived at Florian's house.

"So how was it?" Florian asked he walked her back to the Citadel, after spending the whole afternoon together, of course. She was supposed to be back by nightfall.

"You can't imagine!" Sybille gasped. She promised Gilraen not to tell their parents, but Florian was never mentioned in the bargain. "She is pregnant!"

"Who?" he blinked at her.

"Gilraen, you silly. Gilraen is pregnant!"

"Whoa" Florian gasped. "That's…That's really…Well, that's not really a great wonder, is it?"

"Yes, it is! She is so young!"

"She is married. Which means that she lives married life. Which means that she was bound to get pregnant sooner or later" Florian reasoned.

"It's so odd… Ah, well whatever. You should see her, she is so cute! Oh, and Florian, you mustn't tell anybody, you understand? She made me promise I wouldn't tell anyone! So you mustn't tell anyone!" Sybille remembered and gave him a warning glance.

He laughed and promised not to tell.

Sybille did as she promised too, she visited her sister every week, to give her comfort, to keep her company, to become a better person. Gilraen was very nice and very grateful for her visits and it felt good to make her laugh, to lift her spirits. At least for those few hours she wasn't concentrating on how she missed that awful husband of hers. Mostly they talked in Gilraen's parlor by the hearth, but sometimes her sister managed to get Sybille to go for a walk. Sybille hated cold and as November crept upon them days were growing very cold. They went for a walk in the first snow too, no matter how Sybille hated snow or how Gilraen's housekeeper raved about the cold and the lady's health. That was probably being a better person. To do what others wanted, even if you didn't really like it. In any case, it was a mild snow, really early for the first week of November and quick to melt.

Sybille hoped this week they would not go for a walk. She was already dressed, ready to set off when she saw her father in the throne room. He was sitting the steward's chair his face buried in his hand. He never looked up, he never noticed her. Sybille sensed something was wrong. He must have received bad news, some state business must be amiss, she thought as she quietly made her way for a side door. The moment the guards closed the door behind her, she caught sight of Florian running up to her.

"You heard?"

"What? What happened? I saw Father quite stressed, but I figured it was just some—" Sybille sputtered, suddenly scared. In her mind, she browsed the faces of all those she cared for. Mother, Father, Eldarion, Florian, Gilraen, Brianneth, Miriel, Elboron… Aryana… Gwen, Leobald, her flute tutor, Florian's family… No, they were all good and safe, nothing could be wrong with any of them. Then she remembered her little unborn niece or nephew, could something be wrong with Gilraen's baby?

"There was a messenger from Harad… They scattered the force the King sent to retake Nen Falastir… You know, Lord Torundir's troops…"

"Oh…" Sybille gasped relieved. Then she remembered Gilraen. "Oh no…" she gasped again, her heart sinking. "Oh goodness. Is it sure?" She couldn't bear to tell Gilraen.

"Haradrims are not famous for their word… Three hundred men though never really stood a chance against that fortress. But that doesn't mean... that he is dead, Torundir, I mean. That much is not sure yet" Florian shook his head in stress. "The King is sending my brother down to Nen Falastir to round up the survivors and to find out if he is alive."

Sybille thanked for the news and hurried off to her sister.

She found Gilraen in her parlor with Lord Barahin, Lady Ëlyel and Lord Beregond. Her sister was trembling in the hands of her maids, shaking with tearless sobs.

"My lady, we don't know anything yet. Haradrims are untrustworthy scum, there's as much honor in them as in a piece of potato. Don't despair yet. Not while we don't know anything for sure. Have hope, because there is, still" Lord Barahin was saying.

"He may not be dead yet, just—"

"Just what?" Gilraen snapped at Lord Beregond hysterically. "Dying somewhere as we speak? Rotting in a dungeon?"

"Gilraen, come" Sybille called gently. The men and Lady Ëlyel bowed to her without a word. She pulled her sister into her arms.

"Let me go!" she snarled at her with trembling lips and pulled away.

"My lady, I'm taking another three hundred men to see what's going on down at Nen Falastir. We need to see ourselves what happened before we start mourning those who might be safe and sound. He wouldn't want you to despair. It is not healthy" Lord Barahin told Gilraen.

"He is right, my dear" Lady Ëlyel put an arm around Gilraen this time. "I know it's hard, but crying is harmful. You don't want your child to come to harm."

Sybille saw Lord Beregond's jaw drop while Gilraen grew literally smaller in fear. She let them sit her into a chair, the maids wrapped a knitted shawl around her shoulders and ran to make some tea to calm the lady's nerves. Gilraen pulled herself together and thanked Lord Barahin for the news, wished him better luck on his way and apologized to Lord Beregond. The men left, Sybille and Lady Ëlyel stayed. They talked to Gilraen in hushed voices all afternoon, though she mostly just sat, drank her tea, caressed her belly and stared into the fire with empty eyes.

Sybille didn't want to imagine what her sister would feel in the upcoming weeks while she would be waiting Lord Barahin's return and news of whether her husband was dead.

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Thanks for reading, reviews and comments are welcome as always.

Chapter 31 - Close Shave will be coming... tomorrow night or the day after tomorrow in the morning.


	34. Chapter 31 - Close Shave

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Here is the new chapter, sorry for the delay.

* * *

**CLOSE SHAVE**

His legs were raw from riding. His legs were usually never raw from riding, but sleeping only four hours daily for three months strains every man. His arm still moved stiffly, if at all, and the cold brought back the pain into the wound. And the hell damned fucking keys in the saddlebag kept hitting against his shinbone as they galloped up over the South Bridge of Osgiliath.

"Why is it so fucking cold up here, again?" he called back at Barahin grumbling.

"Because it's _winter_. Mid-December. What did you expect, sunshine?" his friend chuckled.

"After more than three fucking months in thirty degrees, I expected that my balls won't freeze off on the way home…"

"Your lady wife would be disappointed" Barahin grinned.

"My sweet little one…" Even her memory made him feel warmer. "I miss her."

"Only a few hours to wait" Barahin said with a knowing smile and kicked his horse forward.

In fact it was a fucking lifetime to finally reach the gate of the White City looming in front of them with thick patches of shiny white snow covering the roofs and tower tops, making the streets a slippery mess. The gate opened to them at once, the battlement guards shouted commands and cheers as they hurried to tell everybody of their return. One and a half hundred men followed him and Barahin into the city and reined up behind them waiting the last, long expected command. They were mostly his men, the ones who survived. The men Barahin brought along they left behind as garrison at Nen Falastir. Torundir veered around Thunder to face his men. They were weary, dirty, ragged, cold and happy beyond imagination to be home.

"Men! Our duty is done, and well done. We did not fail the King. We did not fail Gondor. But before I give you the last orders, I would have all of you to remember those of us who had fallen in front of the walls of Nen Falastir." They all fell silent for a moment and dropped their heads in respect for the dead. "And now, one last thing I bid you all. Before you go home to your wives, one drink for the fallen, one drink for home and one for the children you make tonight!"

One and a half hundred men roared in cheer as they dismounted and crowded around him and Barahin to bid farewell.

Once the crowd dissolved and the men filled the taverns to get their three drinks, Torundir and Barahin rode up to the Citadel without as much as getting a bloody glance at the streets they lived in. Torundir didn't want to go home before seeing the King. He wanted to go home only in full knowledge that he could stay home untroubled for at least a whole day. They left their horses on the sixth level and made their way up to the palace.

"Do I need to go with you? This is your glory, Torundir. All I did was taking men and following your orders once we found you." Barahin spoke up.

He glared at the younger man. "As if I could do it without the men you brought. As if you weren't fighting in the thickest…"

In the Palace they already knew of their return. Lord Faramir received them with a broad smile and escorted them to the King. Torundir gave him the vast rusty iron keys of the fortress and summarized the events at Nen Falastir. The King looked pleased. And relieved. He told them he would send a military legion to the area of the fortress and appoint a castellan to keep the city and command the garrison they left behind. Then, he wanted to know everything. How they did, what they did. Torundir saw the same painful look cross Barahin's face he himself felt spreading over his features. They rode for six days without much sleep and rest after a siege that lasted three moons and it was some two hours past nightfall. Faramir helped them out at once, though, suggesting the King to let them go home to _get some rest under their wives' healing hands before they report His Majesty every detail._ The King was not pleased then. He clearly disliked the idea of any treatment Torundir would require from his precious daughter, but agreed anyways specifying that he wanted both of them next morning at eight o'clock in the small council hall. They thanked and left.

Torundir said goodbye to his friend on the fifth street and they both rode on home.

The gate was opened, news must have reached them by now. Stanwick bowed his head grinning like an idiot as he greeted him. The front door flung open as he was dismounting. Gilraen was running down to him. With her golden locks dancing, her cheeks rosy from the chill, her smile wider and happier than ever, her furs slipping from her tiny shoulders, she was the most beautiful thing in the world. Torundir tossed the reins at Stanwick and swept her into his arms with a happy chuckle as she flung her arms around his neck with a joyful cry.

"You are back!" she breathed into his ears, her tears of happiness soaking his neck. "You are back. You are back. You are safe."

Yes. He was back. He could finally exhale into her soft golden hair.

She felt so tiny in his arms. Tiny and warm. Her hair still smelled of coconut. And her cheeks still felt like a fresh ripened peach. Everything was the same perfect about her. Then he spun her around laughing. "Aw, sweetheart, I missed you so."

And he kissed her. Hard and hungry, as he dreamed of kissing her ever since he left.

"I missed you too" she breathed when he released her. "Goodness I missed you so much. I was so worried about you. But you are back. You are home! You are here!" she cupped his face and kissed him. Then again and again. And she laughed. "I love you so much, Torundir!"

Torundir chuckled and embraced her. "I love you too, my little sweetest." Her belly felt hard against his torso. Hard and soft, and much bigger than he remembered. "Look at you" he smiled down at her fondling her fresh curves. She laughed again. He loved her laugh.

"You can feel it move now. The baby. It kicks sometimes… Are you hungry? You must be! We'll make you something, anything you'd like. We'll make you roast beef. And wine! Are you tired? The bed's already—"

"Gilraen!" he cut her across smiling.

"Yes?" She asked eagerly, ready to bring down the stars if that's what he asked.

"Just let us get inside, before you freeze here" he laughed and drew an arm around her shivering body. Being home was the most glorious feeling in the world.

The parlor was warm. Not thirty fucking degrees warm, but pleasantly warm. Fire was crackling in the hearth, Pilares and the kitchen maid were bringing in front of him every sort of food they could get their hands on, while another maid was already preparing his bath. Gilraen was running up and down giving instruction to everybody to attend his needs, which was incredibly sweet in its annoying way. Torundir sat down and gave his sword and daggers to the groom to clean and got rid of his filthy bloodstained cloak. His boots were another story, his bloody damned arm still burned with pain when it was supposed to apply force in a bent position.

"Is your arm injured?" came a gentle voice from behind him. Somehow Gilraen was everywhere, it seemed. He turned to smile at her.

"It heals slowly" he gave a grimace.

"I'll help" she nodded and walked to him.

"No, no" he shook his head and kicked off the boots, before Gilraen even reached him. He pulled her into his lap instead and studied her face. Torundir had never seen so much love in his life than there was in Gilraen's eyes that moment. "My sweetheart, you have no idea how much I love you" he murmured to her as he kissed those beautiful rosy lips.

Pilares brought the food then and they sat down to the table.

"So, tell me what happened? How was it going? Did you retake Nen Falastir? Of course you did. And how?" Gilraen couldn't stop smiling.

"I'm _eating_, my sweet" he glared at her. "You tell me how you have been now."

"Of course, I'm sorry. Eat" she laughed. "Well… I've been all right. I really missed you. Pilares was teaching me to cook and I had the shutters painted as you planned. There was a storm and the roof of the stable was damaged but Donland and Stanwick repaired it. I had them take Zephyr for a weekly ride too, as you said. Ëylel is going to have a baby too."

"Mmm, really?" he pressed out between two bites of goose.

"Yes, I was glad, at least they will have each other to play with" Gilraen nodded and fondled her belly. "Lord Damrod was annulled while you were away too."

"Haha, high time" he guffawed.

Gilraen kept talking while he ate about anything that came to her mind. Hundorand in the neighbor moved his daughter to Minas Tirith, Beregond's daughter was in love with some merchant boy, Rohan had trouble with the hilltribes again, Harad wants to win over the pirates of Umbar and many other things.

When he was done, Pilares promised to clear up the table and Gilraen escorted him upstairs where the cleaning maid Marla already prepared the bath for him. Torundir sent off the girl, she annoyed him, the only company he craved was Gilraen's. His wife helped him peel off the ragged dirty clothes and she knelt beside the tub as he sank into the steaming water. Bath was a rare thing during sieges and it felt better than food once one returned. For the first time in three months he relaxed as Gilraen splashed water over his shoulders with a sponge, massaged his neck and caressed his chest. She unwrapped the dirty bandage on his arm and set down to treat the wound properly.

"I never knew you had a skill with injuries too" he grinned at her.

"Well, my lord, you were even surprised at my ability to make the bed back in that tavern we overnighted at" she smirked playfully.

"Well, my sweet, if it wasn't for all this filth you washed off of me, I'd invite you to climb in here with me and enlighten me about your other abilities acquired in that tavern" he twinkled at her. _My sweet_ and _My lord_ would always remain their pet names for each other. Oh those three months they began with… Torundir sighed and climbed out of the tub, and after drying himself in a large thick towel he gathered Gilraen into his arms. She was still light as feather and the stinging pain that erupted in his right arm the moment her legs weighed on it had nothing to do with how many pounds she gained during the last three moons of her pregnancy. But with Gilraen in his arms, pain was something that could go fuck itself all good and fine.

He placed her onto the mattress and pulled the soft night gown from her. There was no woman in the world more gorgeous and desirable than his wife. In his mind he glimpsed back on the moments when he fell asleep in the woods near Nen Falastir dreaming of making love to her. And here she was, like a perfect little peach, ripe and sweet, all his. She pulled him down over her and with a last lusty grin he dived into the deepest hardest kiss, sucking and eating her lips everywhere he reached. Her small hands ran up and down his chest and back, tickling fondling every muscle, driving blood to every inch of his body, driving him crazy.

He took her three times before they both lay spent and Torundir felt so tired he couldn't lift a finger. He had no idea how he survived three months without Gilraen. Without the feel of her skin, without her voice, her laugh, her touch, her scent…

"Feel?" Gilraen jerked his hand over and placed it on her belly. It was slight, yet forceful push against his hand. An incredulous, giddy smile spread across his face as he laughed and kissed Gilraen's belly where their child kicked. "He's happy that you are back, too" she smiled. "Or she. He might be a she."

"How would he, or she, know it's my hand?" Torundir asked stroking her hair.

"I don't know, but I'm sure he knows. Your hand is bigger and stronger. So you never told me anything about Nen Falastir yet" she toyed with his fingers.

"Nen Falastir is a bloody hot place…" he murmured rocking Gilraen in his arms.

"Come on! I have spent years at the Academy studying the climate of different regions of Gondor. Tell me something interesting now. Tell me about the siege. Tell me what took so long. Tell me how you took the city."

Torundir chuckled and kissed her head.

"Nen Falastir…" he mused what to say. "Nen Falastir was a close shave, you know. I knew it would be. That's why we never marched on the city. They would have smashed us like a hammer smashes a nutshell."

"What did you do then?"

"We hid in the woods first. Your Sweetness may remember some fascinating Academy lesson about the area; there's the sea on the left, plains in the front and the border hills on the right and in the back" he drew an imaginary map with his finger onto Gilraen's belly. "That's where we went. I sent out scouts, but we still had little idea of anything. We couldn't stay there forever though, so I marched out with two hundred men and offered them a treaty. You can imagine how ridiculous it looked. They were laughing their fucking arses off at us... Are you comfortable like this?" Her belly was pressed against his torso and he wanted to be sure that position wasn't unpleasant for her.

"I am" Gilraen nodded smiling and planted a kiss on his shoulder. "Go on."

"So the whole talking was no use and we still had no idea of how to make a move against them. I knew there had to be a way, but we needed to find it. We needed to look around and to that we needed to draw their attention away… That was tough… How do you decide which half of your men to send to death?" Torundir exhaled against his wife's shoulder. She nuzzled against him and kissed his hand messing with her hair.

"It was not your will to send them to death." She said silently.

"No. But I still did…" he said closing his eyes at the memory. "It was a bloodbath. And I wasn't even there. I was with the other half of my men seeking a fucking gutter or a hidden passage or any weak point of that bloody fortress while they massacred the rest of us…"

Gilraen turned her head around to face him.

"You did what you needed to do to take that city. They knew the chances too, they knew what you were taking up against. What else was there to do? Live in the woods for the rest of your lives or come home in defeat without even trying?"

"You are right, my sweet, but would you think the same if your husband was not me, but among those men killed at the main gate?" he looked at her.

"I _thought _you were among those men. And even the possibility of the loss was too grave and painful to muse about who to blame for my husband's potential death. Those wives don't care either. They are mad with grief and think of their children. They don't blame you, or anyone."

Torundir thought about that. Then he thought about how such a sweet gentle woman could be so strong and so wise at seventeen as Gilraen was. Then he kissed her head.

"At least we found a weak point. They missed to repair some gutter rails after their own siege. In any case I only had one and a half hundred men left and even if we could get inside the city and take them unawares in the black of the night we couldn't have done it. But the bloody idiots didn't fail us in their stupidity and sent that message to your father boasting on how they scattered us, just as I expected they would. And he was generous and honorable enough to send Barahin to get my corpse back to you, just as I knew he would be. Without the men Barahin brought we'd still be in the fucking woods. The fighting didn't last long, it was about a day. We only left the healers and some dozen servants alive to tend our wounded. Left a garrison and rode back afterwards. Does the story suffice, my little one?"

His little sweetheart smiled and kissed him.

"I hated that you were gone. But somehow… it sounds silly, I know, but I'm so proud of you."

Torundir burst out laughing.

"You are so sweet, Gilraen. It doesn't sound silly, my love. Doesn't sound silly at all." What she said did make him feel proud too.

"Others would have marched against them and died a martyr death all. So that their relatives could tell, they tried… or came back in humiliation without trying to save their lives. But you really know something, you brought back half your men and took the city. You must be proud of yourself too" She went on.

"Who taught you so much about sieges that you know what others would have done?" he grinned at her taunting.

"You" Gilraen smirked back at him playfully. "Remember the hours you spent talking about history and warfare to me while riding or shooting arrows, my lord?"

"Too well" Torundir laughed.

They talked for hours. To be exact, up until Gilraen couldn't go on and fell asleep in the middle of his detailed monologue about Damrod's annulment. Torundir covered her with the thick blankets and watched as she slept. He loved the smile in the corner of her lips when she was dreaming and the way her hair spread over the pillow, like molten gold. He brushed his feet against hers, Gilraen's feet were always so soft. Even when they would lie on the riverbank and her feet would be covered in dirty, they'd still feel incredibly soft. He placed one last kiss on her head and resting a hand over her belly, prepared to fall asleep.

About ten minutes passed before Pilares woke him. Or at least that was how much it felt. He got out of bed and dressed. Gilraen was sleeping peacefully in their bed, her breathing steady and calm. Torundir bent over and dropped a kiss upon her forehead.

"Where are you going?" she moaned, her eyelids heavy with sleep.

"The King expects me. You go back to sleep, love, I'll be back" he told her and turned to leave so she could rest. And this time he wouldn't need to worry whether he would really be back or not…

Torundir met Barahin at the Citadel gate and they went to see the King together. King Aragorn questioned them for three hours about each and every detail of the siege before he expressed his approval then he congratulated Barahin on Ëlyel's child. Torundir figured that meant the King still didn't know about his own daughter's pregnancy. When the King was about to dismiss them, he asked if he could talk with him privately. After considering him for a few moments, Aragorn replied that they'd find another time, because he had important business to attend to at the moment. Torundir thanked and the two of them left.

At home he found his wife in the company of Princess Sybille. The sight of the other blond princess in his parlor was nothing but shocking. At least Sybille seemed to have shared his shock, the girl looked utterly puzzled and uncomfortable at his arrival. Gilraen stood and greeted him with a warm smile.

"You never said your sister would visit" he murmured at her.

"She's been visiting while you were away. I never remembered to tell you yesterday. Do you mind?" Gilraen replied in a low voice, for only him to hear.

"This is your home too, and it's high time you two are talking, I'm just surprised" Torundir hissed back then switched to normal tone. "You must have a lot to discuss, darling, I'll leave you."

"Oh don't leave on my account, I was already going" Sybille stammered in a small squeaky voice shaking her head anxiously.

"You just came" Gilraen reminded her.

"Your Highness must stay. I have some errands to look after. Please excuse me" he told Sybille who looked positively alarmed once spoken to, then he turned back to his wife. "I'll be around, fetch me when you finished" he murmured into her ear.

Torundir left Gilraen with her sister and went to the yard to see the fixed stable roof Stanwick and Donland repaired. It was a nostalgic feeling to run household errands. The men did a surprisingly good job it seemed; both Zephyr and Thunder's boxes were _dry_. Otherwise Gilraen did a good job running the household, nobody got lazy or more stupid and nothing seemed to require urgent attention. He talked with Stan and Donland for a while and had a row with Pilares, which was high time since he had been back for half a day by then and they hadn't had a fight yet. The woman had this ridiculous idea that she could decide things instead of him. By the time they finished and went back to the front yard, Gilraen was saying her goodbyes to the princess.

"She didn't stay long" he noted to Gilraen.

"Because she was freaked out by your presence" she rolled her eyes.

"By my presence in my own house?" Torundir jerked his head suppressing a snort.

"You know what I mean. She has no idea how she should behave with you. A part of her still hates you, but the other part knows it's rude to hate you while she is on talking terms with me. And she is also very scared of you, because you might resent her for visiting without your knowledge or leave and for the enmity she bore us for months." She explained.

"She told you that?" Torundir raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Of course she didn't. But she is my twin" Gilraen shrugged. "You took long, my lord." She went on arming him as they walked back inside the house from the chill.

"A lifetime…" he agreed. "So, my sweet, how about that hot bath we missed to share yesterday night?"

* * *

Okay. So let me know if you are happy or disappointed about his return, I'd so love to know :D And also about anything else that comes to your mind, so please review or PM to tell me :))

Update... (UPDATED) Unfortunately I'll only be able to post the new chapter on Friday night (in best case), because some more serious editing issues came up (I'll be inverting the next two chapters, chap 32 will be 33 and chap 33 will replace 32). This new situation means that the chapter I'll post on Friday night is going to be Chapter 32 - I'll Be Home for Christmas* Now please don't start raving about Tolkien's world not celebrating Christmas, I just love Christmas and couldn't restrain from including it in the story. Also you were warned in the Summary that the universe of the story is not Book, not Film, but Alternate. So please forgive me ths shortcut.

* This title is originally an ER episode title again, and belongs to Michael Crichton, creator of the series and Dee Johnson and Meredith Stiehm, writers of the episode.


	35. Chapter 32 - I'll Be Home for Christmas

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Surprise~

So I'll be going shopping tomorrow and thus I'll have no time to update, so I thought I'd skip my Russian homework and update for you instead.

* This title is originally an ER episode title again, and belongs to Michael Crichton, creator of the series and Dee Johnson and Meredith Stiehm, writers of the episode.

* * *

**I'LL BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS***

One would think women grow up at some point too. One would think one's sisters will stop going crazy after the age of 10 about a holiday market and all the lacy, pretty, shinny, glittery goods it provides for lady visitors. One would even think one's close three thousand years old mother won't go crazy about such things either. And one would prove consistently wrong every Christmas thinking so.

_But Christmas is the holiday of love, peace and joy and thus we must do everything that will make our loved ones, our family happy and joyful, even if it's something that doesn't give us as much joy as it gives to them_, his father always said so when he would be younger and complain about having to visit embroidery, candle, fabric and jewelry stalls every year. Eldarion actually always liked Christmas, liked the festive food, the family gathering and the general spirit of celebrating love. Not the love between a man and a woman, but the love that binds families, friends, siblings together.

Only this Christmas market every year… No matter how much it bored him, however, this year Eldarion would have been the happiest if it took as little as spending a whole afternoon at the Christmas market to make his mother and sisters forget about missing Gilraen. Though she never confided in him, Eldarion knew full well that Sybille was engrossed in trying to find a way to have Gilraen over for Christmas for a week. She evidentally gave up when their mother directly told her over a family dinner that she did not care how many battles he won, she was not going to suffer the presence of _that sleazebag bastard who stole away her daughter _on a family celebration.

Celebrating without Gilraen was odd. It was still nice and heartwarming and fun as always, but everybody had a strange feeling of missing something very important. A sister and a daughter.

But this morning everybody seemed cheerful to get to go to the market. And Eldarion was just so happy to finally see his mother and sisters cheerful. They were gathering in the Throne Room, Florian just arrived as well, he would be escorting Sybille as befit Her Royal Highness's betrothed. Eldarion could scarcely hold back from laughing every time he heard something like that. When Florian had confessed his crush on Sybille to him two years ago, he had been mad at his friend for two weeks. Once he had put up with the thought though, he couldn't stop pulling their legs about it. Finally Sybille arrived too wrapped in the finest furs and silken shawls looking as beautiful and regal as their mother, and also the same bitter deep in her heart. Eldarion prayed the market would draw her attention from missing her twin…

They didn't take horses. Everybody always went to the Christmas market on foot. They descended to the first level together, with Faramir and Éowyn and Elboron and his siblings, while people kept stopping them to give the King and the royal family their best wishes, to give their holiday greetings to the Lord Steward and his family. Eldarion just hoped he would live up to that role; that one day he would make a king people stop to give their best wishes to and he could see that Elboron was having the same thoughts too. Florian, in the meanwhile, was walking beside them, smirking at the dreaming expressions he and Elboron must have had on their faces, as only a best friend would do.

It was nothing to laugh at, in fact. Eldarion spent his whole life in awe at everything his father did or said. As far as his memory went back he loved and praised his father, and didn't remember a single time when, just for a brief hour, he did _not_ want to be like his father. Partly, it was his duty, as the heir of Gondor to be like his father, but for Eldarion the other part was always more important. The part that he wanted to be like his father, because he was the most impressive man in the world, the greatest king, the best father, the most loving husband, the most loyal friend, the most trustworthy leader. Sometimes Eldarion felt he was marching on the wrong path, but to that his father always said _that was the path of youth each and every man had to march down before reaching the crossing to choose the path they would walk for the rest of their lives_. Still, Eldarion couldn't imagine his father making the same adolescent mistakes he was going through one by one, playing with a different girl every month... If his poor mother had any idea… She always said he didn't need to worry, because his father made mistakes in his youth too. Hard enough to believe, that was, but the prospect made him relax a little at least. He still had time to be the great man his father was…

Eldarion was wakened from his thoughts as his sister clapped and squalled in joy at some mummers. The market did cheer Sybille, just as he hoped it would. She marveled at the beautifully carved wooden toys, the soft festival table cloths, she inhaled the warm scent of roast chestnuts and spiced teas and wines. The market offered anything one could imagine, dried flowers, winter fruits, tea and pipe weed, herbs, turkey, mulled wine, wooden toys, vases, embroidery, tiny marble sculptures, jewelry, knives, armor, festival sweets, pre-written scrolls with holiday greetings. The girls went off to see an embroidery stall while Eldarion exchanged an eye-roll with Elboron. Women… Spending his life among four sisters, he still couldn't understand women.

"Oh goodness, look at that!" Sybille shrilled in the highest pitched voice Eldarion ever heard her produce. She ran back to pull Florian with her. "Look how incredibly soft and cute that is!" she cooed in the most disgusting tone a girl could hit.

"What _is_ that exactly?" Eldarion raised half an eyebrow at the white piece of cloth with something pink embroidered onto it.

"A baby-blanket!" Sybille looked at him as though he had asked what color the White City was.

"For Aryana?" Eldarion guffawed, but Aryana heard and kicked snow at him in outrage. Which only made him guffaw more. Aryana was the funniest little thing in the world and if she weren't so uncontrollably wild and unexpected she would have possessed the title of Favorite Sister, which was, this way, still Sybille's. Sybille's favorite sister was Brianneth and vice versa, while Aryana stuck with hating them both and growing an odd fondness for Gilraen who was not even living with them anymore. Aryana definitely possessed the Most Complicated Sister title, but Eldarion still adored her.

"This is so cute!" Sybille pouted at Florian. "Do you think my future niece or nephew would like this? A cute little blanket for a cute little baby!"

Now it was Eldarion's turn to grin at Florian while his friend gave an uncertain look to the blanket. Elboron was already positively shaking with laughter in the background.

"Well… yes, my dear. Surely…" Florian managed.

"Oh, Florian! It is so rude of me, it completely slipped my mind in the celebrations. Please give my warmest congratulations to your brother and his wife!"

Eldarion had no idea why it was rude of his mother to forget that, he himself never remembered to congratulate on Lady Ëlyel's baby either. Florian blinked at his future mother-in-law in puzzlement for a moment, before he broke into a smile and nodded.

"Your Majesty is too kind. My brother will be honored to receive your best wishes!"

"So?" Sybille chirped. "Shall I buy it? It's so cute!"

"I think you should wait till the child is born" Florian shrugged. "To see if it's a boy or a girl."

"I hope it will be a cute girl to dress up in those pretty lacy little dresses!" Sybille giggled.

"I am positive it's going to be a boy" Florian told Sybille shaking his head in disagreement.

"Why?" she asked in disappointed surprise. "I was so sure, it'd be a sweet little girl."

"Personally I can't exactly imagine the father holding this lacey cutie pink thingy dressed baby girl of yours" Florian made an unreadable twinkle and Sybille twitched her lips.

"They already have a girl. It's time for a boy now" Eldarion put in his agreement but Sybille just raised an absent _What are you talking about_ eyebrow at him before she completely turned her attention back to the embroidery stall.

"Oh, oh, oh! Did you see that? Who is that?" Someone yelled at him and Eldarion felt Elboron dragging him off by the arm while his father and Faramir were shaking with chuckles.

"Who? Where?" he asked Elboron, lost.

"That girl!" Last time Eldarion heard that tone, it came with the word 'baby-blanket'. "That girl who just turned into one of the aisles! With ginger hair!" Eldarion gave an apologetic grimace. "Who was that girl?" Elboron turned to his own and Eldarion's fathers.

"I don't know her" the King shook his head in pity.

"Me neither, but I bet she is the love of your life, my son" Faramir shook his head and Elboron held back a retort Eldarion knew too well: '_She is!_'

"I'll go and find out who she is!" his friend decided and left them.

"We'll go and look for Lady Ëlyel and Lord Barahin!" Sybille announced and with their mother and father's consenting nod she armed Florian.

"I'm sure they are here" Florian gave Sybille a look and pulled her on. Eldarion had the feeling that Florian had some sort of private language with Sybille too. He, Elboron and Florian could read from each other's expressions and tones and eyes ever since they were eight, but Eldarion never quite understood what a smile or a look meant when Florian offered it to Sybille. Well, kids grow up… He exchanged a knowing glance with Aryana who always shared his good laughs at Sybille and Florian's sugar-dove romance.

They resumed the exploration of the market three people less. Brianneth, Éoreth, his mother and Éowyn made up for Sybille's girliness now, while Eldarion walked with his father and Faramir lacking both his friends and eldest sister. Aryana was somehow gone, as always. At the end of every row of stalls there was a platform with two or three singers playing holiday songs and ballads, on the girls' request they had to stop of course and listen to one. Eldarion prayed Elboron and Florian would be back, he was too male and too grown up for all this, no matter how childish and not-serious-enough he still was at times. And luckily he didn't have to wait for long.

With the smuggest grin Eldarion had ever seen, Elboron appeared turning around the platform with a dressed-up monkey and its master. Somehow fate had its japes that Elboron turned around the very platform with the only monkey of the entire market. Eldarion adored Elboron, he was like a brother and it was their brotherly thing to make fun of each other.

"That grin suggests me you found out about your heart's love, my dear" Éowyn smiled.

"She is Lord Hundorand's daughter and she moved to Minas Tirith during October. Previously she had lived in the country, in their family resort near Dol Amroth with her mother. But now that she is entering marrying age, her father saw it fit to bring her to the city" Elboron told them with a pleased smirk. "Melorien, that is her name, celebrated her sixteenth birthday on October 2nd and plays the flute. Opinions differ on how well" he added with a chuckle. "She likes boys, but her father is very strict, so she is only allowed to meet people on public events. She also likes apple pie and is fond of gillyflower. And she is going to attend Lord Damrod's New Year celebration next week where I will have a chance to meet her personally" Elboron finished and bowed.

"You are the wizard of knowledge Elboron" Éoreth teased her brother.

"I am, aren't I, little sister? I have a special talent for finding information about those I am interested in with extraordinary speed. It is a heavenly gift, a special skill nobody else possesses…" everybody was laughing, Elboron the loudest as he trailed off. "No, really, she is your sister's neighbor" he shrugged shaking off his mighty power of knowledge.

"_Your_ sister's" he repeated to Eldarion when nobody seemed to understand. Eldarion looked at him stupidly. "Gilraen's!" Elboron rolled his eyes impatiently. Frozen silence fell to the company, but Elboron never seemed to notice. "I saw them talking to Melorien, but by the time I reached them in that awful crowd, she left. So I asked who she is and they tell me she is their neighbor and all this stuff about her. They were nice, gave their greetings and all."

"_They_?" Eldarion echoed.

"Yes. They. She was with her husband. Seriously, Eldarion, compared to you I _am_ the wizard of knowledge" Elboron shook his head chuckling.

"She is here?" Eldarion heard his mother ask. She looked at his father and they exchanged a painful look.

Elboron gulped. "Apologies, my lady, I shouldn't have—"

"Don't be silly" his mother smiled, but Eldarion could see it was only her lips smiling and not her eyes, never her eyes.

"Arwen, come. We'll go for a walk. If you will forgive us" his father spoke up nodding to Faramir and Éowyn who just stood there uncomfortably. Eldarion watched his parents leave and soon Faramir and Éowyn decided to get some private time too.

"Was it me?" Elboron asked him in a low voice. "I shouldn't have said I met her?"

"No…" Eldarion shook his head. "This never quite leaves us. Somehow the Gilraen topic is always hanging in mid-air and when someone pokes it, everybody grows all sour and bitter… If they just dropped it..."

"Not like Your Grace ever dropped it" Elboron glared at him and Eldarion knew he was right. Elboron handled the situation perfectly. He talked to Gilraen if it came to that, otherwise he never gave a shit about anything concerning her. Only, Gilraen was not his sister. Elboron's brother announced they were bored, so he and the girls left for their own exploration of the stalls…

Eldarion couldn't handle Gilraen. At times, he missed her, missed her goodgirlness, her decency. Gilraen was someone you could always talk to, she listened and gave counsel if you asked or if you didn't, she just kept your secret. Sybille clearly missed her. For some thirteen years the twins were practically one person, it took the beginning of adolescence to tear them apart, the time when it eventually turned out how different they were.

At other times, Eldarion felt he could throttle Gilraen in a spoon of water for what she has done. Like back in that tailor shop… Shame washed over him every time he remembered what he had done. He shouldn't have hit her. She was his little sister, a woman, younger… And she was even right in what she said. That's why it wounded him so. But to hit her… that was not befit. Not for a brother. Not for a prince. Not for a future king. Everybody makes mistakes, though… His father was said to have made mistakes too… Surely not ones like this… He wondered if he would ever stop feeling guilty about hitting his sister.

Elboron was a good friend. He always knew when he had to hold his tongue, he knew when Eldarion needed the solace of his own thoughts and never failed to grant that to him, not even when it meant more than one hour of wandering in utter silence except for the market buzzing around them. Eldarion had a hard time keeping the shards of dialogues out of his attention.

"…Father I want a sword!" a boy cried.

"You are too young!" a man replied.

"At least buy him a toy sword, my dear…" the mother joined.

"…My dear, what would you like me to gift you?" another man cooed to his lady.

"Just some nice necklace" she replied.

"Here are some necklaces, my good lord! Let your lady see them…!" a merchant shrilled.

They could even overhear the conversations from the other side of the stalls, from the next aisle, even though the wooden huts completely shielded who they belonged to.

"You want some more of those?" asked a male voice.

"No" came the answer through something Eldarion thought to be roast chestnut. "'Been eating all day."

"The only way to get big" the man laughed.

"Like even bigger?" the woman asked chewing on another chestnut.

"Look, if that's what it takes…" he teased joking.

"You are awful, Torundir!" It took naming the man, that Eldarion finally recognized his sister's voice through the chestnuts.

He wanted to bang his head against the wooden stalls. Gilraen was the last thing he wanted now. He waved to Elboron to go, but he grabbed his arm.

"Aren't you cold, sweetheart?" the man asked his sister on the other side of the stall.

"No, I'm fine."

"Aren't you interested?" Elboron whispered to Eldarion.

"No!" he hissed back at his friend and turned to leave. He stopped and made a face at Elboron. He _was_ interested, damn it all. Elboron grinned and gestured him back.

"Did you know that Donland got married?" they heard Gilraen say.

"No I didn't."

"Yesterday. And I was thinking he could bring his wife to us. We need a maid anyways—"

"No. No way. I'll not take into my service any more relatives of my servants" the man cut her across and Eldarion felt a jolt of outrage in his stomach. How he dared cut across _his_ sister?

"All right, fine. As you wish, my love." Gilraen gave up smiling. Well, he didn't see her smile, but even her _voice_ was smiling. Eldarion had difficulties recalling the last time Gilraen smiled.

"Look at all this crap. Who needs a tablecloth with mistletoe embroidered on it?" they heard Torundir say. "What idiot brought this gift-giving into custom? You can very well give gifts to anybody you want on any day of the year. And expressing love by buying useless things is simply bullshit. How do you think I love you more? If I buy you a bloody holly designed necklace or if we go home, sink into a hot bath and we shag for three hours?"

Elboron's eyes widened. "He can't actually stay erect for three hours, can he?" he hissed horrified with envy and for a moment Eldarion didn't know whether he should laugh or draw a knife through Torundir's gut.

Gilraen erupted in giggles.

"Oh goodness! I believe I'll go with the bath…"

"I thought you would. Ah, by the way, what of finding a carpenter?"

"I have already told Pilares, but she has so many things to tend to nowadays. We still have a lot of time though. Which way shall we go?" they reached the end of a row and if Gilraen and her husband decided to turn left Eldarion and Elboron would come face to face with them. And Eldarion really didn't want that.

"Right" Torundir decided and they lost them for a few minutes while they turned right too and followed along the next row.

"… and I asked 'What, am I supposed to do, ask Stanwick to wash the dishes instead you?' You should have seen her face." They heard Gilraen again.

"Hah! I want to see you making Stanwick wash dishes. Though I'm not sure I'd have the stomach to eat from those dishes afterwards."

Eldarion shook his head in half amazement. His sister was manipulating the hell out of Torundir. Whatever was the topic she always found a way to drop a casual sentence which justified how badly they needed another maid. But she never pressed, she never said more than a short sentence and she always made it damn sure the comment would fit into their conversation and amuse the man.

"And what of writing to your family?" they heard Torundir ask.

"I talked with Sybille and we agreed I'd write a week after the holidays" Gilraen replied uncomfortably. "Just so I won't spoil their Christmas and New Year…" she added silently.

Eldarion was taken aback. Did she actually think they hated her so much that her holiday greetings would spoil their Christmas? He suddenly felt guilty. He never thought Gilraen felt bad about anything that happened…

They couldn't make out Torundir's reply as the buzzing of the market grew lauder and lauder around them and soon even lost the two which Eldarion didn't particularly mind. He just wanted to concentrate on the market so it would draw his attention away from his inner battle of missing or condemning his sister.

"So?" Elboron grinned.

"If he mentions what he is doing in bathtubs and beds to my sister again, I'll gut him."

"Eldarion…" Elboron rolled his eyes. "Soon, Florian will be doing ugly things in bed to your other sister. Will we kill him too, then?"

"Florian courted my other sister and marries her in an honorable way. Florian is my friend. Florian never played us a fool. Florian is a good man."

"Oooooh, Your Grace is a good man toooooo" Florian and Sybille arrived laughing.

"What have you two been up to?" Sybille smiled about ten times more joyfully than she was some two hours ago.

"Just a little of this, a little of that…" Elboron blinked innocently. "And you sweet doves?"

"Just a little of this, a little of that" Florian replied with a smirk which Eldarion already knew well enough to be able to decode his friend's answer as _Drinking and talking with my brother, Ëlyel, Gilraen and her husband_. Maybe Sybille and Florian had it right…

They wandered together for a while among the stalls and platforms, listened to some songs, drank mulled wine and didn't really hurry to find their parents at all. Behind some platform Eldarion could have sworn to have seen Aryana giving her brand new Christmas gift, a gilded set of bracelets to a scrubby girl. Well, that was Aryana. After another hour of market exploring, they decided it was time to leave and look for their parents. Taking a turn around the end of the last row Eldarion felt Elboron nudging him with an elbow.

"… I'm starving and you are saying we might have to _wait_ for supper?! Tell Donland to bring his wife and put her in the damned kitchen, will you?" they heard a familiar male voice grumbling.

"All right, as you wish…" came the gentle reply and the conversation faded from their ears.

For a moment Eldarion felt obliged to bow down in respect in front of Gilraen. She did it impressively. In less than three hours she talked into her husband it was _his_ wish that they take Donwhathisname's wife into their service. She was one excellent wife, his sister.

"It'll be good to go home, I'm cold" Sybille chattered. "But where are Mother and Father?"

"I don't want to go home yet" Elboron announced suddenly. "Eldarion, shall we stay?"

"What for?" Eldarion shrugged, he was immensely bored with the market.

"I want to get a girl and measure how long I can stay erect" his friend stated.

Eldarion roared with laughter. "You are the biggest idiot I have ever known, Elboron!"

Sybille and Florian stared at them bewildered.

"What about that red haired lady you fell in love with about three hours ago?" his sister exclaimed in shock.

"I can only meet her next week, so right now, nothing" Elboron raised an eyebrow in sincere puzzlement.

"Fine, I'll stay with you" Eldarion shook his head guffawing. "Sybille, please tell Father we'll stay a little longer and get back… for dinner" Eldarion turned to his sister and Florian and waving them goodbye followed Elboron back into the crowd.

* * *

Okay. That was it, please let me know in a comment or a review if you liked it :) And if you love all the useless Christmas themed products out there (I do), don't feel offended by Torundir hating on er... Christmas 'consumerism' (I love Christmas consumerism *whispers*) :))

Next chapter is coming... I have no idea when. This semester start was sort of rough and I feel and look like a zombie, so I'll probably be spending half my Saturday sleeping and the other half in a beauty salon, haha. You are so not interested in that, sorry, I'll talk less. Next chapter, Chapter 33 - Something to Get Used to will be coming... *UPDATED*

I so hate doing this, people, but something came up. The clicker kid from my sister's paper called in sick and now she has to do make up, but she has like three more articles to edit and she's having a math test too, so I'll be jumping in to save the day and my sister's school paper. Now this means that I'll probably not have time to update here. But update is coming by all means on Monday night. I promise. And sorry sorry again :(


	36. Chapter 33 - Something to Get Used to

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

Haha, you will never believe this. So it was almost 10 o'clock when we got into the car to get me back to my place and my dad to the airport. But there was an accident somewhere and we ran into a horrible traffic jam (got 1,5 hours to get out, 'lucky' thing my dad's flight was canceled because of the snowstorm). And I thought, hey, I have my laptop in my bag, I can very well use this time to put the new chapter into a separate document, ready it for Doc Manager, do spell and grammar checking, etc.

So here is the new chapter, and I'm so happy I didn't need to put off updating in the end. And yeah... I can already feel the hate I'm going to get for this, but here goes nothing... :D

* * *

**SOMETHING TO GET USED TO**

Blond locks and emerald silks were flying in mid-air as the little girl disappeared around the corner of a cold white, snow covered stone hallway. _No, wait! Come back! Don't go!_ She couldn't move, she couldn't speak. She wanted to run, to scream, but no sound came out of her mouth and her legs wouldn't obey. All she could do was stand petrified and watch, like the freezing statues along the corridor half covered in snow and ice blown all over them by the blizzard raging in the palace. Or was it just this corridor and not the entire palace? She wanted to go and find out, but how to move? Once she had been able to do this. Take a step, then another and another. It wasn't difficult, children could do it too. Not her though. How could she forget how to walk? Maybe if she changed direction? She turned around. There was no snow there. She turned back her head to see if she was just imagining the blizzard, but no. The storm was raging on behind her. It seemed as though it was winter on half of the corridor while it was summer on the other half… She shook her head in desperation; she needed to get out of here. She needed to learn to move her legs again, she needed to find her little girl. With a deep breath she turned her head back to the summer side of the hallway hoping it would give her strength and lifted her foot. It was working so far. Then, she took a step. And another. She could walk again. She was so relieved. She hurried along the hallway and turned around the first corner— There was a terrible cracking sound behind her. The fatal collision of stone and porcelain rang in her ears as she felt an awful chill creeping up her spine. She had to go back and see… Maybe just one of the statues… With slow, fearful steps she made her way back to the summer corridor. First she couldn't find the source of the sound, but then… a doll lay on the white marble floor, lifeless, motionless, its porcelain head smashed into smithereens under the neat blond wig, the blizzard raging in the background. She fell to the ground, tears blurring her vision, fangs ripping her heart…

And she woke up with a yelp, panting heavily as she called for her handmaid.

"Your Majesty, is something wrong?" Nanyn came running to her bedside.

"No… I'm fine. Just a bad dream…" Arwen shook her head. "Please bring me a goblet of water."

The girl nodded and Arwen sank back onto her pillows. This can't go on, she will go mad. This was the tenth night she dreamed this dream. Dream… nightmare, one would rather say. Nanyn returned with the water. Arwen glanced out of the window while she drank.

"Is the King up yet?" she asked the maid.

"Yes, Your Majesty. But His Majesty already left to meet the Lord Steward."

"Brilliant…" Arwen muttered wryly.

After getting dressed, Arwen asked for breakfast to be served in her parlor. Proper breakfast. Not something greasy or heavy or disgusting. When she had moved to Minas Tirith for an entire year she had been served bacon and scrambled eggs for breakfast. There was nothing as disgusting in the world as bacon _and_ scrambled eggs mixing on a plate, blubbery and jelly like, stinking with grease.

She asked Nanyn if any of her daughters were likely to join, but according to a governess the Princess Sybille _already left, _the Princess Aryana was, for the sake of surprise, nowhere to be found and the Princess Brianneth was still in bed. Arwen sighed. Where in Valar's name was Aryana again? And Sybille… Sybille was acting the most strangely with her lately. Was she still upset about Christmas, or was this something else? Arwen felt sorry for Sybille, she didn't want to hurt her, but… even the thought of having that man as family sickened her. She hated him, hated, hated, hated him, with hatred she never knew to dwell in her soul. Had her father hated Aragorn too? No way. Aragorn was different. A single finger of Aragorn had always been worth ten times as much as that whole bastard.

In the end, Arwen sent for Brianneth to be woken. Her daughter arrived yawning and pouting. She inherited oversleeping, as much as everything else from her, there was no denying. And Aryana probably inherited the love of roaming from Aragorn. If only Aryana had also inherited from her father the habit of _letting her know _about those roams before disappearing, too.

"Mother, it's _eight_ o'clock" Brianneth pouted. "_Who_ is having breakfast at eight o'clock?"

"My dear. Millions of commoners need to suffer the terrible burden of having to get up before eight o'clock every day. What's more, they get up at first light which is usually five o'clock." Arwen smiled at her taunting.

"It's a week past Mid-Winter. Even the _sun_ doesn't feel like rising before eight o'clock" Brianneth sighed and pulled a jar of yoghurt in front of her.

"Tell me of your plans for today instead" Arwen smiled at her.

"I was going to have Sybille help me with my practice for the flute lesson, but she said she is going to see Lady Ëlyel with Florian…"

"I can help you with your practice if you would like me to" Arwen offered her.

"Really?" Brianneth's eyes kindled. "I would so! It'd be so great!"

"All right, then" Arwen laughed. "So Sybille is with Florian… and what about your Ceoron?"

"He is not my Ceoron!" Brianneth made a typical teen aged _Stop embarrassing me, Mother_ face.

"Of course not, forgive me" Arwen nodded trying - and failing - to hold back her giggles.

"Mother!" Brianneth exclaimed half laughing too.

"All right, then what about Ceoron, who is not yours?"

"Nothing" Brianneth shrugged. "For a few weeks I thought I was falling in love with him, but I'm not. Or I don't know… It's just so boring sometimes. Can love be boring?"

"No, it can't" Arwen shook her head.

"I thought not… How do you know when you love somebody?"

"I don't know. It's different for everybody" she replied eying Brianneth curiously.

"Well how did you know you loved Father, then?" her daughter pressed on.

"Oh, how…" Arwen sighed at the memory. "I mostly just felt it. My heart was melting away every time I laid eyes upon him. When did I _know_…? I think you know that you are in love with someone when you are ready to do anything crazy for him. Like forsaking your immortality, or going crazy worried when Southrons abduct your beloved…" She mused as Florian's face swam into her memory, his face when he was telling her they couldn't find Sybille.

"Or giving up your family and running off from home…" Brianneth added musing.

Arwen shuddered. "That is another story, Brianneth. Let's not mix it in here" she said stiffly.

"I fear I will never love anybody" Brianneth sighed.

Arwen broke into a smile and drew an arm around Brianneth. Teen problems were the sweetest, most innocent things in the world. "My dear, you will love somebody. Such a darling girl like you will not be left without love. The Valar are more just than that."

Soon Brianneth left for her dancing lesson. Arwen thought it was a ridiculous notion to have poor young girls spending their days with lessons even when it was so dark, cold and grim outside. She talked with Nanyn, read a book and counted the hours till lunchtime, when she could see Aragorn.

"Oh, I thought you were never going to make it" Arwen sighed as she embraced her husband.

"I didn't mean to take this long, Arwen, forgive me" Aragorn smiled at her and they sat down to the table. "I'm starving."

"Because you never eat" Arwen raised a disapproving eyebrow at him, but he just gave a small smile at her 'needless' worry. "Honestly, whatever matter could be so important that you need to starve yourself…"

"I will eat, my love. How was your day?"

"Fine" Arwen sighed. No, it wasn't. She hated winter, it was grim and cold, but there was no reason to strain Aragorn with all the things she still couldn't put up with in mortal life. In spring and summer she loved Gondor, it was just as amazing and lovely as Rivendell or Lothlorien had been. But falls and winters were something she couldn't get used to; they just froze the soul out of everybody, people got moody and touchy, the world was gray and cold. And there was also the food. Arwen picked at the roast beef in front of her and twitched her lips. There was only one Gondorian dish she liked, Christmas turkey. This year, however, even the Christmas turkey tasted foul. It was not the same with one person less around the table. Christmas without Gilraen… Another thing she would never be able to put up with.

"Do you remember the twin dolls?" she suddenly asked Aragorn.

"The what?" he blinked at her getting a second helping from the beef.

"When Gilraen and Sybille turned eight years old we had two dolls made special for them. The dolls were twins too, with porcelain head and blonde hair."

"Ah, yes. I remember" Aragorn nodded. "What of the twin dolls, my love?"

"I dreamed about them yesterday night. I was playing hide and seek with Gilraen and Sybille and there was a snowstorm in the palace. I heard a crack and found one of the dolls broken on the ground." Arwen explained.

"Do I need to tell you what this means?" Aragorn asked leering at her silently.

"No, Your Majesty, I may not understand humans, but I have lived long enough to understand myself at least" Arwen replied her lips curling into a sweet, flirty smile.

Aragorn grinned at her and squeezed her hand before he asked: "This was the first time you dreamed this?"

"No… I've been dreaming this since we met her on the Christmas market" Arwen muttered.

She tried so hard to get the memory out of her head. The sight of her daughter covered in fine furs, her cheeks flushed rosy pink from the chill, snowflakes melting in her blonde hair, unshed tears shining in her eyes as she caught sight of them. And that horrible man on her side…

She and Aragorn had been standing there, unable to move, just like in her dream. Arwen remembered the urge deep inside her heart to run to Gilraen, to slap her for running off, to yell at her, to hug her tight and never let her go, to shower her blonde head with kisses like she'd do when Gilraen was still a child, to tell her how she missed her. And she remembered the wave of pride, hurt and hatred as she had stared at them, happy together. Gilraen's man had bowed to them, Aragorn had nodded back, Gilraen had just stood immobile while Arwen had just felt as though she had no idea whether she was going to fly at that sleazebag bastard and rip off his smug face for stealing her daughter or faint right where she stood. She remembered Aragorn pulling her on and the last snapshot of Gilraen's face clouded by pain, hurt, guilt and love as tears started rolling down her cheeks…

"Arwen!"

"I'm sorry" she looked up at Aragorn blinking. "Did you say something?"

"I asked if you were all right" he gave her a concerned-sympathetic glare.

"Yes, I'm fine. I just—"

The door of the parlor opened and a guard appeared with a groom at his heels.

"Pardons Your Majesties" the groom started bowing his head to them. Aragorn nodded at him in consent, so he went on. "My King, the Lord Torundir is asking if he may have a private word with you sometime today."

Arwen felt a jolt of outrage in her stomach. As if it was not enough that the man soiled and stole her daughter and now he even had to interrupt her lunch with Aragorn. He should just go back to that cursed fortress by Harad and never come back.

"He may not. I am holding council meeting today. Some other time" Aragorn said and waved at the groom in dismissal.

"Why don't you just send him away somewhere again?" Arwen broke out in desperation. "It'd be all for the better if he was just gone from here. Maybe Gilraen would come back too if her precious bastard was finally gone!"

Aragorn's face darkened.

"Have you any idea what pain I have already caused Gilraen sending her husband away? She thought he died. And if he_ had_ died? Who would have caused that? Me! How do you think I would go to sleep at night if Gilraen's husband died on my orders? How do you think I _went _to sleep at night when we thought he was dead?"

"I thought you sent him away to be rid of him in the first place…" Arwen twitched her lips.

"Do you think Elrond sent me away to be rid of me?"

"It is not the same!" Arwen hissed flushing scarlet red. "I… You… We never… It's not the same!"

"But they are married, Arwen. It IS the same now. They are married, they are family. How did you even think I would take away the only person from my daughter she has left on purpose?" Aragorn glared at her.

"What was your purpose sending him away then? That he'll come back to Gilraen, so she'll never come back to us?"

"My purpose was to teach him a lesson. That he'll to come back in _defeat_ and he'll learn his place, that he'll learn some submission and Gilraen will realize that her place is not by the side of this man, but with us. And? I failed. He came back in glory and left _me_ in ridicule for giving so few men to him. Whenever I tried to teach either of them a lesson, I failed. I told Gilraen to go away because I thought she would be frightened and it would open her eyes and everything would be back to normal in two month. But she didn't come back, she married Torundir and she is still happy with him. What else is there for us to do?" Aragorn spread his arms.

"You could have just imprisoned or executed him for high treason at the beginning…" Arwen noted dryly.

"Oh yes and watch my daughter die after him in grief?!" Aragorn frowned.

"You know I didn't mean that…" Arwen sighed in a whisper.

"I know" Aragorn exhaled shaking his head and pulled her into his arms. For a moment they just stood there hugging, trying to channel some strength into each other.

"I hate that man" Arwen muttered into Aragorn's neck.

"I know" he soothed her and kissing her brow, rocking her in his arms.

* * *

Am I signing my death warrant asking for reviews? I guess so, haha :) No, seriously, please let me know what you think, I would really love to know your view :)

I'm really uncertain about the update, shouldn't take longer than Friday, but I'll do my best to get it done sooner. It'll be Chapter 34 - A Memorable Birthday.


	37. Chapter 34 - Birthday Surprise

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

New chapter with a new title. I just thought this was more fit somehow... How damn long this is... Never mind.

* * *

**BIRTHDAY SURPRISE **

She was busy again. She was busy all the time. But it made up for all the years in her youth she spent being bored and wretched. She liked to be busy. She liked helping where she could, she liked making preparations, organizing events. And Aryana was a nice little girl who deserved just the same grand birthday celebration her elder sisters always got. Aryana was like a youngest niece to her. All of Aragorn's children were like nieces and nephews to her and Faramir, just as their children were nieces and nephews to Aragorn and Arwen. And her little almost-niece would deserve the most wonderful eleventh birthday.

Éowyn was in charge of the guest list, everybody Arwen thought fit was to be invited, along with those Aragorn, Eldarion and Sybille saw fit to host. Guestlists were complicated things. And music was even worse. Éowyn had a mind to get the Academy choire to play on Aryana's feast, and now with Lord Erandur's consent and blessing, she set off to see the chiefman of the choire at once to discuss what sort of music she wanted for the feast. Éowyn didn't even remember spending so much time at the Academy than on account of this silly choire. She was more than happy to finally head for the door and get out of the maze of marble corridors.

"Lady Éowyn! It's a pleasure to see you, my lady!" a kind voice called at her from behind. The Lord Barahin's wife was walking up to her turning onto the main hallway.

"Lady Ëlyel, it's my pleasure" Éowyn smiled at the woman. "How are you doing?"

She figured Ëlyel was somewhere halfway with her pregnancy, or already closing to it.

"Very well, thank you. I'm still far away from aching ankles and waist pain" the woman laughed. "Are you on some business here, my lady?"

"Preparations for the Princess's birthday" Éowyn nodded. "And you?"

"I came to arrange a tutor for my daughter, it's time she learnt to read and write" Ëlyel smiled as they descended the stairs. "And the weather is finally getting warm and nice."

"Indeed, I myself can't wait to go for a ride. There's nothing like early spring breeze."

"With babies, riding is out of our options, but I do love a pleasant walk" Ëlyel laughed and laid a hand against her belly. In fact she wasn't so far ahead that she could not ride, but Éowyn kept the thought to herself. And it was good she did so, because in the portal they came upon a heavily pregnant blonde woman who, seemingly waiting for Ëlyel, must have been the reason why the latter didn't ride.

It was Gilraen.

Éowyn's jaw dropped in shock. "Gilraen?!" she stared at the girl dumbstruck.

"Lady Éowyn" she gave Éowyn a shy smile and looked really uncomfortable.

"Oh, my goodness, I had no idea you were with child!" Éowyn just couldn't conceal her surprise, no matter how much she embarrassed Gilraen.

"You did not?" she raised an eyebrow blushing. "But you saw me at Chirstmas. On the market…"

"Yes! And it was cold and you were wearing thick furs! How were we supposed to notice?"

"You didn't? I thought… but then… my parents don't know either? I mean I met them too and they were just staring at me and then walked away and I thought... I thought they were so angry or so hurt… They do know don't they?" Gilraen stammered in desperation.

"I am positive they have no idea!" Éowyn exclaimed. Maybe Arwen would not, but Aragorn would surely have mentioned it. Éowyn was sure that no matter how he hated the idea of Gilraen wedding Torundir, deep in his heart, he would have been too happy for their child not to say anything. Éowyn shook her head. No, surely, neither of them had any idea about Gilraen.

"I thought they knew! Oh, what you must think, what they must think…! I wanted to let them know! I was going to write them, but then we met them on the market and I was so sure that it was the baby why they just turned away like that, why they were so angry all over again. And Sybille said that when she mentioned me to Mother she said she didn't want to talk of me, so we figured that writing them would only be adding oil to the fire to rub it into their face" Gilraen spluttered helplessly.

"It's alright, don't worry about it, we'll figure out something" Éowyn assured her placating. "Wait, Sybille knows you are pregnant? And how comes she didn't tell the whole city yet?"

Éowyn eyes swept over Gilraen then. Over her rosy cheeks, her full cleavage, her eyes sparkling with love, her large belly. "Oh, darling, congratulations!" Éowyn smiled happily and drew her into her arms.

The girl was utterly lost. And even that was lovely about her.

"Aw, you are so beautiful. I wish you all the best, Gilraen. All the best for you and your sweet baby! Congratulations, dear!" Éowyn laughed giving her a squeeze.

"Thank you so much, my lady" Gilraen replied completely touched, choking on the words.

"Oh, now! We got over this 'my lady' thing when you were four, don't start again!" Éowyn warned her playfully. "You came with Ëlyel?" She turned back to the other woman then.

"Yes, she was so kind to accompany me" Ëlyel nodded smiling.

"I'm preparing Aryana's birthday, you know, it's on—"

"Friday, I know" Gilraen nodded. "I'll write her. I'd go and see her too, but Mother wouldn't allow. Sybille promised she would give her my letter, though."

"No, no! You must come to her birthday!" Éowyn shook her head impatiently.

"I'm not sure Mother and Father would want me there and even if they did, I would really not go alone like this either…"

"Aryana would be so happy to see you, and Sybille too, I know. I'll take all responsibility. Nobody will be angry with you. And your husband must come too! Is that even a question?"

"Well… really, I would love to, if I won't cause trouble" Gilraen nodded.

"Then it is settled" Éowyn nodded leaving no room for arguing. "I must be going now, I'll write to you about the details. It was a pleasure to meet you, Lady Ëlyel!" She smiled at Ëlyel before taking her leave.

Gilraen would be the first of the next generation to have a child. Sooner or later her son would marry and have children too. Then her daughter, then her younger son. She was growing old. Lifetime seemed no more than a day. And what a beautiful day it was.

Éowyn found Sybille in Arwen's parlor sharing a tea with her mother and the queen's ladies in waiting. The girl needed to be informed at once that her parents did not know of her twin sister's pregnancy, a situation that needed immediate assistance.

Sybille excused herself: it was feast preparations, anything was allowed, and followed Éowyn to the hallway.

"Dearest Princess Sybille, going to have any nieces or nephews in the very near future?" she raised an eyebrow at her and Sybille blinked.

"Ah! You met Gilraen!" It finally came down to her. "Is she all right? I haven't been able to visit her for more than a fortnight now… She is so cute!" Sybille giggled. "Her belly is so big and so cute! I can't wait to see her baby!"

"She is just gorgeous, she is" Éowyn nodded. "And I believe it is high time that your parents finally learned about their future grandchild too" she added.

"They know" Sybille dropped her head sadly. "They met Gilraen on the market. Won't even talk of it. How can they hate a cute little baby?"

"No, Sybille, I met Gilraen on the market too and I had no idea she was pregnant. Everybody looks twice their usual size in furs, how was I or your parents supposed to notice it? Maybe to such a slender girl like Gilraen it's obvious that she looks three inches thicker, but it's really not something you can tell only by looking at her while she is wearing a winter coat" Éowyn reasoned as she watched Sybille pale while she talked. "Your parents would have mentioned it if they knew about her baby, I'm sure."

"No… Oh no. You can't tell me they don't know about it… Ah, Gilraen should have written that letter. We so agreed it would be oil to the fire, because we were just sure they already knew. I can't believe this…" Sybille sighed and shook her head. "Now they'll think she didn't tell them on purpose and ah…" the girl bit her lips in frustration.

"You need to tell them" Éowyn told her. "As soon as possible."

"Me? No way! What do you even think I would dare do that!" Sybille's head snaped back up.

"Who else will? I invited Gilraen to Aryana's birthday which is the day after tomorrow. You need to tell them now. It's best if you tell them" Éowyn insisted.

"Why can't _you_ tell them?" Sybille whined pouting. "Éowyn please! I have no idea what to say to them!"

"I know this is a gross idea, but how about the truth this time?" Éowyn raised an amused eyebrow at the princess who gave a knowing eye-roll. "I'll go with you if you want, but you need to tell them. They are your parents, they don't bite."

Sybille's inner battle was written all over her face. Half of her was about to start a pouty whiny puppy eyed pleading session to make Éowyn talk to her parents instead of her, while her other half was ready to do something grown-up like this for her sister.

"Fine. Fine, but you'll come with me!" She gave in with a warning grin and Éowyn laughed.

Four hours later she, Sybille and Arwen were waiting for Aragorn in Arwen's parlor. Sybille had the right of it, Éowyn realized, being in one room with Arwen, waiting for Aragorn, about to tell them something they will really not like was a pretty unnerving experience.

"I still don't understand what this is all about" Arwen looked at them amused. "You want to tell us something, but why did you drag the poor Lady Éowyn along?"

Éowyn could feel that typical edge of jealousy in Arwen's voice. The Queen still had a slight mistrust concerning everything that required Éowyn's personal interaction with Aragorn. She was about to answer when the door opened and Aragorn finally arrived.

"Well…" Sybille started nervously. She looked at Éowyn.

"This charming daughter of yours wishes to clear some misunderstandings, assure the poor thing you won't bite off her head" Éowyn helped her out smiling at Aragorn and Arwen.

"I do not believe we have ever done that before" Aragorn nodded at Sybille encouragingly.

"You still have your head, you see" Arwen added with a smile.

"Well, it's about Christmas" Sybille managed.

"You want to talk with us about Christmas on March 8th?" Arwen raised an eyebrow.

"No, she actually wants to talk to you about Aryana's birthday party" Éowyn corrected. "That we thought it would be nice to invite Gilraen, since Aryana is so close to her."

Aragorn and Arwen looked at each other.

"I don't see why not" Aragorn finally said.

"In fact, we thought you saw at Christmas why not" Éowyn blurted and looked at Sybille to continue.

"So you remember that you met Gilraen on the market?"

"We do" Aragorn nodded again, his eyes shining intensely, sensing he was about to hear something he was not sure he wished to.

"And… you didn't think she looked… different?" Sybille asked and Éowyn could hear her heart pounding even from one yard distance.

"Different?" Arwen raised an utter confused eyebrow.

Sybille exhaled and looked at Éowyn helplessly. "Gilraen was going to write you a letter after the holidays, but then you met her on the festive market and you were just staring at her, you didn't go to her and she didn't go to you, because it was so shocking and emotional and all. And then you turned and walked away."

"That is what happened. Please get to the point" Aragorn told Sybille, stiff with rapt attention. Éowyn watched Sybille, all nerves on edge and prayed she would be able to continue.

"And she figured that the reason why you walked away like, all angry and hurt, was seeing for yourself what she was going to write you in a letter…" Sybille took a deep breath. "That she is expecting a baby."

Éowyn closed her eyes. It was done. When she opened it, she saw Arwen covering her mouth with one hand, clutching the arm of her chair with the other, horror frozen onto her beautiful face while Aragorn's jaw dropped to the ground.

Seeing her parents' reaction Sybille gave Éowyn a nervous side glance and decided it was best to keep on talking.

"So, and this is my fault mostly, she didn't write you, because we figured it would only hurt you more to rub it into your face. And when I asked you about having met her, you said you didn't even want to talk of it, and that just made me more sure you knew of it… So please don't be angry with her for not telling you, because she wanted to, it was just a misunderstanding…" Sybille finished almost whispering.

Éowyn was about to ask Aragorn and Arwen to say something, but then Arwen spoke up.

"Please tell me this is not true" her voice was shaking as she looked at her daughter in utter desperation. Éowyn felt an urge to roll her eyes at the Queen, the woman acted as though they just told her her daughter was dead. But then… could she, herself _not_ overexaggerate if a man like Torundir got _her_ daughter with child?

"It is true" she replied to Arwen a little more dryly then she meant to. "I met her today too."

Arwen closed her eyes in horror and looked as though she was going to cry. Empathy or not, that was beyond ridiculous, Gilraen was _happy_.

"Gilraen couldn't have been pregnant at Chirstmas. Or couldn't have known it yet" Aragorn looked up suddenly. "Torundir only got back a fortnight before the holidays."

"Gilraen has been pregnant since July" Sybille answered.

Aragorn's mouth slowly opened as he sank back in his seat, realization clouding his eyes and he slowly, painfully closed them.

"And why in Valar's name" he straightened up with an anguished face "haven't you told this to me _before_— why hasn't _Torundir_ told this to me before I sent him to mortal peril?"

"I only learned about it after he left, around October or so" Sybille said silently. "And according to Gilraen they didn't tell you before, because her husband didn't want you to think he was trying to skip his duty on account of Gilraen's baby."

Aragorn ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

"How could we not notice?" he broke out turning to Arwen.

"Seeing my daughter for the first time after half a year it wasn't exactly her waist size I was paying attention to!" Arwen snapped hysterically.

Éowyn sighed. In fact she didn't really need to hear all this…

"Well, I think I can already go, can't I, Sybille?" Éowyn put in glancing at Sybille. "Erm… don't tell this to Aryana, that Gilraen will be attending her party, let it be a surprise…" with that she fled the room, not really willing to face what Aragorn would have to say to that comment.

Éowyn was very careful to evade both Aragorn and Arwen on the following morning, instead she shared the news of Gilraen with her husband and sons and daughter who were all but shocked too. Éoreth reached the conclusion that the baby will be cute and that was as far as she was concerned, while Elboron and Theomer agreed babies were creepy. At that Éowyn just exchanged an incredulous look with Faramir, agreeing that they seriously messed up something bringing up the boys.

On the following day Aryana's birthday party was held in the Small Hall; it was already filled with guests by the time Éowyn arrived. First she wanted to check if Gilraen and her husband had arrived as she promised. A groom showed Éowyn to their table on the right side of the hall, in the middle of the back row, just as Éowyn arranged. They were arriving at the table just then. The sight of this large, hard man supporting the small fragile girl heavy with child was one of the most heart-warming sights Éowyn had ever seen, in spite of all its weirdness.

The love in Torundir's eyes and movements as he helped Gilraen to her seat left no doubt in Éowyn that no matter what Aragorn and Arwen thought of the man, Gilraen was just in the best place she could be by his side. They thanked her for inviting them and she gave her best wishes to Torundir too. That was funny, she always felt funny in the company of those lords who shared the not so uncommon belief that she should have been Queen instead of Arwen. She and Aragorn were an old story and Éowyn loved Faramir; Aragorn was nothing but a good friend for more than two decades now. Still the thought that a good part of Gondor's nobility would choose her as their queen over Arwen always warmed her.

Éowyn checked on last time if Gilraen was really unable to spot from the dais so Aryana could have her surprise and finally took her seat beside Faramir. With the arrival of the royal family, the celebration began.

Aragorn toasted Aryana for her birthday and after a bunch of more important guests did the same, the whole hall drank to the princess's health, well-being and happiness. Music started and Arwen announced the birthday presents for Aryana. After the last present, Éowyn got to her feet to announce one last last-present from Sybille. At that Sybille hissed across the table at her to shift the responsibility before she got to her feet and descended to take Florian's hand, who waited for her at the bottom of the dais.

"All right, all right" Éowyn laughed. "Actually it was my idea. I do hope our beloved Princess Aryana will like this one birthday surprise even if she generally hates surprises." People clapped and Éowyn sat back down.

Sybille wringed her hands nervously as she started talking to Aryana and the hall.

"And so I would like to offer a song to my dearest sister Aryana for her 11th birthday!"

Éowyn saw Aryana banging her head into her empty plate, a song from Sybille for her birthday was something that did not exceed even her lowest expectations. Arwen and Aragorn though were beaming at Sybille and Éowyn wondered actually how long that was going to last in the next few minutes. Sybille waved off Florian who disappeared among the tables. Sybille waved at the musicians and the gentle melody of the song _If I had two lives _filled the small hall. Ten century long secods passed and Sybille started singing.

She was over the first choir by the time Florian finally appeared with Gilraen on her arms and Sybille took her sister's hand with a giddy grin as Gilraen shook her head at her scowling.

Éowyn watched the crowd. Cheers and applause erupted as they finally processed the sight of the twin princesses reunited, hand in hand. Then she watched Aragorn and Arwen while the girls walked up to Aryana who just stared at them, eyes wide, jaw dropped in surprise. Arwen looked like the most beautiful, exquisitely carved ice statue of the world with all its splendour and stiffness. Aragorn went pale when he saw Gilraen, and his eyes, overflowed with emotion, burned with something Éowyn thought to be between guilt and hurt and anger. His gaze was fixed on Gilraen's belly, the living bulging proof that Torundir _soiled_ his precious innocent daughter.

After the second verse and long moments of tugging at her hand, Sybille finally managed to get her sister to sing the last choir with her and Aryana was laughing so hard Éowyn was sure it was worth all the trouble to have Gilraen there.

When the music stopped, Aryana, as befit a young lady of her teen years, ducked and climbed down from the dais through under the table to throw herself into Gilraen's embrace, who whispered something to her and kissed both her cheeks. Faramir and Elboron descended to give their congratulations to Gilraen who felt clearly uncomfortable in the center of attention even for these few moments. Éowyn caught Aragorn's eyes browsing the crowd for Torundir, but he didn't seem to find the man as his glance finally fell upon Éowyn and he gave her a half amused, half scowling _We will talk_ look. Éowyn shook her head at him chuckling and walked down to her husband talking to the twins. Aryana was arming Gilraen and grinning giddily.

"I hope you are not very angry with us" Éowyn told Gilraen who gave a small grimace.

The girl opened her mouth to reply, but instead something very strange crossed her face. Eldarion was walking down to them with long strides. Éowyn looked back at Gilraen who instinctively backed off two steps at her brother's approach. It was the weirdest thing Éowyn had ever seen. Eldarion looked paler than the walls of the hall.

"You are pregnant" he croaked at his sister who gave a slow, misgiving nod. "And… by the look of it you were pregnant back at the end of August too…" Gilraen nodded again watching her brother's every move but Eldarion didn't move anywhere. He just stood petrified.

"Gilraen… I… I had no idea… I… You are my sister, I would never ever mean harm to you. Nor to your child. Goodness, you have no idea how sorry I am…"

Éowyn looked at her son, but Elboron seemed just as lost as she was, and as everybody else around, apart from Gilraen and Eldarion.

"Gilraen… if you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me, please do so and be sure I would never ever mean harm to you or your child. You, of all people always knew what a hot headed idiot I always was… I am so sorry, Gilraen… Please, sister, forgive me, if you can." Eldarion's eyes finally left Gilraen and were lost in the crowd for a moment, before Éowyn saw them lock with Torundir's burning gaze fixed warily on the pair of his wife and her brother. Éowyn looked at Elboron again who was now frowning with interest.

"It's fine." Gilraen finally spoke up and Eldarion's eyes found her again. "It's… over, really. I'm… not going to dwell on it."

"That means you will forgive me?" Eldarion reached for Gilraen's hand, and with misgiving reluctance she gave it to him.

"I will… _forgive_ you… if it's my place to forgive the Prince of Gondor."

"Thank you, sister" Eldarion kissed her hand. "Thank you, Gilraen."

With that Eldarion turned and left them heading straight into Torundir's direction. Servants arrived with plates of food and Éowyn thought it best to return to her seat and interrogate Gilraen about her affair with Eldarion later. After Aryana let go of her, Gilraen returned to her table too to eat with her husband. For the rest of the night Éowyn stayed with Faramir on the dais and they talked. Time for talking was rare and treasured; at times Éowyn felt it was too rare.

Éowyn only looked around for Gilraen the next time when she finished her fifth dance with Faramir, a pleased smile spread across her face when she caught sight of the girl talking with Aragorn by the edge of the hall.

"They should have had this conversation months ago" Faramir told her with a smile and they returned to the dais for a drink. They watched Elboron dance with his ginger haired love for a while, before Éowyn decided she couldn't control her curiosity anymore. Gilraen just dropped onto the bench and poured herself a drink when Éowyn reached her.

"I saw you talking with your father" she sat down beside Gilraen.

"Oh yes. He was… fair. He said we should have let him know; that he would not have sent Torundir to Nen Falastir if he knew I was with child. He asked if I was healthy, gave best wishes. Said it was good to see me."

"And your mother?" Éowyn asked.

Gilraen dropped her eyes. "She won't even take up eye-contact…" she said sadly.

"She'll come round with time" Éowyn assured Gilraen, cursing Arwen in her mind for being so stubborn. "And how are you coping with the feast? Tired?"

"So tired" Gilraen laughed. "I sat down because I was starting to get a pain in the waist too."

"You don't have much time left" Éowyn nodded studying her belly.

"I think it should be about one more moon, little less…"

"Didn't you count?" she giggled eying Gilraen.

"Count? How could you count it?"

"Obviously there's a chance the child will come a little sooner or later, but with Elboron I calculated ten moons after conception and he came about a week earlier."

"Oh… well… I'm not sure of the day I should start counting with" Gilraen blushed scarlet red and Éowyn burst out laughing. "I guess it was around the end of June, beginning of July… some time while we were staying at Maeregard…"

"Lord Turgon would be pleased to hear that" Éowyn shook her head smiling and this time Gilraen broke into a chuckle. "And how do you feel about the approaching day? Aren't you scared? I remember I was scared, couldn't imagine how I'd squeeze a baby out of myself."

"I'm not… scared… just sort of concerned. I mean others have done it before me, so it shouldn't be impossible" Gilraen giggled at her own words. "I'm just concerned if everything's going to be all right, if… I'll make a mother good enough."

"Oh, darling, you will make a wonderful mother" Éowyn smiled at her. "Can I ask you something? What was going on between you and your brother previously?"

"My father asked the same" Gilraen nodded. "But the answer is still the same, Eldarion will tell you if he wants to. I guess we are a little too old to run to the grown-ups to tell on each other, aren't we?" she shrugged and Éowyn inclined her head in impressed agreement.

Torundir returned and she left them to each other musing whether her daughter would turn out a Sybille or a Gilraen in five years. In fact, in its own way, both were just perfectly fine options, but strangely her heart was pulling towards the Gilraen end now, not like she'd like to see Éoreth carrying the child of a Torundir sort of man in five years. Then she also reminded herself of the not very carefree months Gilraen had been through in the past year and decided she preferred Sybille's path for Éoreth.

Elboron asked her for a dance on her way back to the dais and eventually she ended up dancing three more dances with Faramir. By the time she found her seat on the dais again, guests already started making their goodbyes and the Small Hall was getting empty again. She looked around for Aryana, but not so surprisingly, the birthday girl found a way to skip her own party. That was probably the reason why Arwen was making some fuss at the other end of the table. Éowyn shuddered at the thought, she herself would also take it rather badly if her daughter kept disappearing on an utterly unpredictable basis.

"Tired?" Faramir called at her with a smile.

"Much more than I thought I would be" Éowyn nodded and leaned against her husband. "You think he actually likes that girl or is he just playing around again?" she mused eying their son on the dance floor with the ginger haired girl.

"I'd say he is playing around, but you should ask Eldarion if you want to be sure. He's young, let him enjoy it. Sooner or later he'll fall for someone just like everybody does" Faramir chuckled. "And actually, I'm younger than Aragorn, I can do a couple more years without becoming a grandfather."

All Éowyn could do was kiss her husband as they laughed.

* * *

So please let me know what you thought, there's one more chapter left (Chapter 35 - The Kingly Way) and the Epilogue, hopefully I can get both along during the weekend, if not, obviously the Epilogue will only come next week.

And I've decided to write a set of one-shots so I can get to show more details and misty of uncleared parts of this story, I was really sorry I could not fit certain scenes in, I so wanted to write them. If there's any detail or scene you would like to see, write me a PM or include it in a review if you'd like, and I'll consider writing a one-shot of it.


	38. Chapter 35 - The Kingly Way

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

I'm so damn awesome. Update in such a short time. I'm so amazing, aren't I? Yeah, I know. Haha. Sorry for the narcissism, I've been sitting in the car for a whole hour listening to what a crap I am, so it's time to balance back my self esteem, haha :"D Okay, bullshit off. Here's the new chapter, this is the last POV chapter, there's only the Epilogue left now.

Oh yeah, I forgot. Here's a picture for the story too, an old thing made with The Tudors and Warrior dress-up games on Azalea's Dress-up Dolls.

* * *

**THE KINGLY WAY**

The Queen was oversleeping. She spent half the night reading her books. Or so the maid told him. Aragorn shook his head with a smile and decided he would not send back the maid to Arwen's bedchamber to wake her. She was a bad sleeper ever since she moved to Minas Tirith, she missed the airy halls of Imladris and whenever she overslept, Aragorn thought it best to leave his wife to her rest. Descending to the royal dining hall, he found only Eldarion and Brianneth by the breakfast table. Sybille was surely oversleeping as well, while Aryana… well only the heavens knew where Aryana was again.

"Good morning, Father. Mother?" Eldarion looked up at him.

"Still in bed. Good morning to you both" Aragorn smiled at his son and daughter and took his seat at the end of the table.

"Good morrow, Father!" Brianneth gave him a shining smile. That typical shining smile of Arwen, nobody could resist. Bria looked just like her mother, Aragorn could never decide which of his daughters was the most beautiful baby girl; Brianneth, who was a mirror of her mother's beauty even in her toddler years or the twins with their golden locks and bright eyes. His thoughts were interrupted by someone who had definitely been the wildest toddler of his daughters, and hadn't even changed much ever since.

"This is SO unfair!" Aryana slammed herself into a chair with a sulky face. "_Sybille_ can stay in bed, but I can't! Was there a single time when _I_ stayed in bed and _she_ had to get up?"

"I always thought you despised Sybille's laziness" Eldarion grinned.

"I do" Aryana nodded gracefully and pulled a slice of bread onto her plate.

Aragorn just smiled at them, even quarreling, he couldn't help but adore them. A groom appeared in the doorway bowing deep in front of the royal family.

"Your Majesty, there is a message for you, my lord."

Aragorn waved his hand in agreement to admit the message bearer, a youth of no more than some sixteen years.

"Your Majesty" the lad bowed too entering the dining hall. "I bring you a message from my lord and lady." Aragorn gestured him on with a nod of his head. "My lady had her child last night."

Aragorn blinked at him. Who on Middle Earth was this lad in fact?

"The Lady Gilraen had her child." The boy added then, as explanation.

Aragorn felt his mouth open into a perfect O. This was not a surprise after all, they saw Gilraen not a fortnight ago and she did seem to be at the very end of her pregnancy. He even made Gilraen promise they would let him know when she delivered, but the news still came as cold shower. Gilraen had her child. He was a _grandfather_. A jolt of worry hit him then.

"Is she healthy? Is she well?"

The lad blinked at him stupidly. "The child is a boy, my lord."

Aragorn rolled his eyes. "Is _my daughter_ well?"

The young messenger blushed scarlet red on both cheeks and ears. "I beg Your Majesty's pardon" he muttered. "The lady is well. Everything went all right."

Aragorn sunk back in his seat with relief.

"So… she had her baby?" he heard Brianneth ask.

"Yes, Your Highness."

The next thing to happen was just as unexpected as the news of Gilraen giving birth. Aryana jumped up with a shrill of excitement and ran to him.

"I want to go see her at once! Please Father, can I? I so want to see the baby!"

"No. No, Aryana!" Aragorn laughed and Aryana stared at him in dumbstruck disappointment. "Darling, your sister just gave birth to her baby. You have any idea how exhausting that is? She needs rest. So does her baby. Her son, is it?" He glanced up at the messenger who inclined his head in agreement. So Gilraen had a son. "Aryana, you will have plenty of time to visit Gilraen and her baby. Just let's not burst the door onto her right now. Let her rest." He told Aryana and patted her small hands.

"But you'll allow me to go and see the baby, won't you? Once he's bigger and Gilraen rested enough?" she blinked at him through long black lashes, almost as wide eyed as Sybille would blink every time she wanted to go somewhere with Florian.

"Of course I will" Aragorn assured her with a warm smile. He was closest to Aryana of all his daughters. Arwen always said Aryana was most like him, of all their daughters.

"I will go with you too" Eldarion agreed absently. He still hadn't forgiven himself the tailor shop affair, it seemed.

"I want to see it too!" Brianneth declared. "When will it be old enough?"

"The baby is a _he_, not an it, you idiot!" Aryana glared at her. "He just said so!" she pointed at the messenger.

"It's rude to point at people, _you_ idiot!" Brianneth retorted.

"And it is rude to call any other person an idiot" Aragorn interjected sternly.

"Even when she is so?" Aryana shot a malicious look at Brianneth who put on a hurt expression and resumed her breakfast.

"Enough." Aragorn glared at his youngest daughter and turned to the messenger. "You said my daughter delivered last night?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. The child was born shortly after midnight."

Aragorn nodded and thanking him for the news, dismissed the youth. Shortly after midnight meant Gilraen would still be sleeping…

Aragorn scarcely remembered the last time he went anywhere on his own. He was always followed by retainers and guards and soldiers when he went on some business of the realm. Valar, how annoying that was…! Other times he always had Eldarion to accompany him so his son could learn and when he was going somewhere for his own pleasure, Arwen would go along all the time. He liked being king, it meant peace, it meant family, it meant Arwen. It meant everything he had been fighting for for decades. But one thing, he would always miss from his ranging years; the solitude of his own thoughts, a treasured minute alone.

He walked all the way down to the royal stables. He hated when stableboys brought his horse to the Citadel saddled, as if he weren't able to ready it on his own, but that was the kingly way, there was nothing to do about it.

It was a pretty spring day and a pleasant ride down to the fifth level, along the behind street. He liked to go for a ride in the city, to see things for himself: to see if something needed attendance, to see his people in their everyday life – he always went for those rides with Eldarion. The most important thing his son needed to learn was that a good king always had to know what was going on within his walls. It took him six years to settle the order in the White City but since then there had only ever been two people who managed to keep something from his knowledge. The exact same ones he was trotting to visit now.

No servants had ever been so perplexed and stunned to see him. They took his horse and led him into the house half in awe, half in sincere astonishment.

"My lord, His Majesty the King is here to see you" the younger man announced him.

Torundir looked nowhere near as surprised as his servants, but he, too, never seemed to expect him so soon and suddenly.

"Your Majesty" he stood and bowed his head in greeting.

Aragorn mused what he felt for this man. This man who soiled his daughter without his knowledge, who stole away his daughter without his leave… who made his daughter happy…

"Torundir" he nodded. "Congratulations on the birth of your son."

"Thank you, my lord" the man bowed his head again and waited for him to go on.

"I was told everything went well. Is my daughter in good health?"

"She is, sire. She was very exhausted, but otherwise fine. She is sleeping now."

"I would see her. And the child too. No need to wake her, I would just like to look upon her, see if she looks all right." Aragorn told Torundir who nodded and gestured him up the stairs.

"Upstairs, please, my lord."

"How did she cope? I feared childbirth would be hard on her" Aragorn asked as they ascended.

"She did well, Your Majesty" Torundir replied, the shadow of a half proud half loving smile crossing his face. "She labored for some ten hours. I so feared for her, but the midwife kept saying she was doing fairly well. Hard to believe when all I heard was her screams."

"You were not with her?" Aragorn whipped his head around warily. This man _dared_ to leave his daughter alone while she spent ten hours in agony to bring his child into the world?!

"She wouldn't let me in" Torundir said with a hint of regret in his voice. "When I arrived, she'd already been in labor for three hours and she said, or rather yelled" he chuckled "that I mustn't dare go in there and see her like that."

Well that sounded something like Gilraen… sensitivity about exposed helplessness.

"And how did you find the experience through closed doors?" he asked the man.

"Maddening" Torundir replied. "To know she was in pain and not being able to do anything to help her, to ease her pain… Hearing our child cry out was the most magical relief in the world. Then one servant came out with a basket of bloody sheets, that was terrifying... But then I could go see them and Gilraen was fine. So exhausted, my darling, but fine and happy and she held our son in her arms… that was…"

"Invaluable?" Aragorn couldn't help but smile as Torundir got lost in his story of the birth of his son. He remembered feeling just the same way when he and Arwen held Eldarion for the first time. Twenty two long years ago…

"Yes. Exactly" Torundir nodded and opened a thick wooden door leading into a room with a fine bed just opposite the door.

Under a soft white feather blanket and a deep amber colored satin cover trimmed with green velvet lay Gilraen sleeping, her blonde hair spread over her pillow like molten sunshine, her face pale and peaceful, happier than Aragorn had ever seen it. She looked like an angel. His darling little angel he didn't even look at for a year. In that moment, setting eyes on his daughter, behind the sheen of tears blurring his vision, Aragorn wondered how he had been able to be angry with this darling girl for so long.

After a moment of blankly staring at Gilraen, Aragorn recovered to notice a cradle on the right side of the bed. He walked up to the cradle with Torundir to look upon his first grandchild. The babe had a shade of brown pile over his scalp, just the same structure as his father's. He was a gorgeous little thing, healthy looking, sweet beyond words.

"If I may…" Aragorn glanced at Torundir before reaching into the cradle to hold the child, more a courtesy rather than actually asking for his consent, which he, as the King of Gondor and the man's wife's father would obviously be granted. The man's only reaction was a fond smile at the babe as he nodded.

With that Aragorn lifted his first born grandson into his arms. The baby was strong and heavy for a new born, more than 6 pounds as far as he could tell, longer than 20 inches. Followed by a faint moan of surprise by the whole new world around him, the child opened large sapphire eyes at him. Gilraen's sapphire eyes. Last time Aragorn felt similar warmth flooding his heart was eleven years and ten days ago, on the very day of Aryana's birth. The child's gaze was full of curiosity, fear and tiredness. It took him a long minute to decide that evidentially Aragorn was more fearsome than interesting or tiring and broke into a small whiny babycry. Aragorn just smiled as he rocked the child.

"Father?!" a soft surprised voice called as Gilraen stirred from her sleep.

Aragorn turned around to smile at his daughter overwhelmed with emotion. Torundir was already kneeling by her bedside clutching her hand.

"How are you, angel?" he asked her gently, stroking her hair.

"Fine" Gilraen muttered warmly, her lips curving up as she looked at her husband. "Fine… Why didn't you wake me?" she asked looking at Aragorn, addressing Torundir. "I'd have…"

"There was no need for you to have done anything, Gilraen. You just gave birth, all you need to do is rest" Aragorn told her.

"His Majesty didn't want you to be woken" Torundir said to her too, but Gilraen was not interested in their replies anymore, her eyes were fixed on her son crying in low staccato in Aragorn's arms. She looked surprised… even amazed… slightly worried… full of love.

"I hope you don't mind" Aragorn raised a kind eyebrow at Gilraen who shook her head with a small smile.

"You slept well, sweetheart?" Torundir brushed Gilraen's face with his hand again and she turned back to him, her smile broadening as she pressed her lips against his hand in a kiss.

"I did" she nodded. "And I don't even feel like having been overrun by a hundred riders anymore" she gave a tiny giggle and the man squeezed her hand with a chuckle.

It was probably Gilraen's voice that changed the babe's cry. His eyes did not reflect the fear from the unknown anymore, it was almost a look of reproach he gave Aragorn among his ever louder moans, _Why am I in your arms when my mother is here_.

"I think he wants you" Aragorn smiled and walking up to Gilraen, placed the child into her arms and she took him with the warmest, happiest, most loving shine in her eyes.

"Shhh, hush, my little sweetheart, you are all right. Just all right, aren't you, my darling little baby? I'm here, hush, hush." she cooed to him, rocking him, smiling, kissing his tiny head.

"Torundir, I would have a private moment with my daughter." Aragorn spoke up, after giving the two a minute to nurse their son.

The man looked up and nodded at once. "Of course, my lord." He cupped his son's head and kissed Gilraen's forehead before he stood and with a bow took his leave.

Aragorn sat down beside Gilraen who looked up at him with a hint of worry and stress in her eyes. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to say so many things…

"My darling daughter… congratulations." He finally broke into a smile and reached for Gilraen's free hand. To see her surprise at his words hurt more than he ever thought it would. Was he really such a bad father? For the past year, to Gilraen, he probably was.

"Thank you, Father" she answered. "Thank you for visiting too. It means a lot… I… I want you to know how much it means... It wasn't like… like you never meant anything to me…" Gilraen too, seemed to be struggling with words. "It was never like that, it was the toughest thing I have ever done, tougher than childbirth" she gave a small nervous chuckle and words started pouring from her. "Father, I'm so sorry, I swear I never meant to hurt you, I loved you all, I still love you all. I'd never hurt you on purpose, I know I was so selfish, so bad, but I don't know what got into me, I just wanted to be happy and I needed him, I loved him. I love him so much, I have never ever loved anybody like I love him, it just took all my sanity, but… hate me for this, hate me for how selfish I was, but I'm just so happy with him—"

"Gilraen" Aragorn held up one hand to silence his daughter. "Enough. You don't need to tell me this. It's nothing I don't know. You apologized enough times and this is an old story. Time heals everything and I believe one year is more than enough time to heal this affair."

Gilraen's jaw dropped in awe. "You don't hate me anymore then?" she choked.

"You are my darling little girl, I remember when I held you like you are holding your son now" he gestured at the baby. "How could I hate you Gilraen? All the hurt, the rage was because I love you so much and I couldn't bear losing you to this man…" he gestured at the door. "And the _way_ I lost you to him… But it's all history now. I don't care, I don't mind as long as I see you happy, as long as he treats you well. Does he treat you well? Because Valar see my soul, if he doesn't…"

"He does" Gilraen assured him with a touched look.

"Gilraen, I'm sorry" Aragorn shook his head and it seemed Gilraen was still not short of shock and surprise. "Sorry for the way we treated you for a year. And above all, sorry for almost killing Torundir. I never meant to. I wanted you to know that."

"I deserved it" Gilraen sighed and kissed her baby's head again who fell asleep to the rhythm of their conversation in the meanwhile. "And it wasn't your fault… you didn't _want_ to kill him."

"No, my dear. You deserved our fury, our coldness, separation from us for some months... You never did anything to deserve almost losing your husband while with child, not even talking to you when we saw you at Christmas, sending you a paper that you weren't my daughter anymore, being slapped by your own brother…"

"So he told you" Gilraen noted silently.

"After Éowyn's little show. Apart from his girl affairs, Eldarion tells me pretty much everything, no matter how bad, foolish, hot headed or shameful it is" Aragorn said for his son. He wasn't sure what Eldarion would have to do that he couldn't forgive him. "You know what's funny? It was Sybille who came to her sense first. Concerning you, I mean. I never thought it would be Sybille of all of us to come to sense first concerning anything…" Aragorn chuckled. He loved Sybille the way she was, nonetheless, and now she was even starting to grow up. Just in time for her wedding… Hard enough it was to admit, but Florian had a real good effect on her.

"She was so very nice to me" Gilraen nodded. "I hope she'll come to see the baby too…"

"Why would she not?" Aragorn raised an absent eyebrow.

"She is as afraid of Torundir as of seventh hell…" Gilraen held back a chuckle.

"I do believe that being afraid _is_ the more normal attitude towards Torundir from a seventeen year old girl…" Aragorn shook his head with an apologetic sigh. "So will you forgive me for being so resentful in the past year, my daughter? Just as you are also forgiven for… _your attitude_ towards Torundir, especially for that around this time of the previous year…" he suppressed a grimace and gave a kind smile to Gilraen whose eyes were clouded with tears.

"Thank you, Father, so much… of course I forgive you…Please forgive me too…Thank you!"

Aragorn gulped back a tear too and kissed Gilraen's head. In her arms, the babe woke again, and clutched Gilraen's index finger.

"So what is his name?" Aragorn gently brushed the baby's head with his thumb.

"Nothing, so far. I was so tired last night we didn't really have time to think of anything."

"I can tell he will be as willful and hot headed as his father, if that weighs anything…"

"He looks like him too, doesn't he?" Gilraen smiled at the baby. "Same scalp and nose."

"But he has your eyes" Aragorn noted. "So far…"

Gilraen chuckled. "Father?"

"Yes, my dear?"

"Mother?" Gilraen muttered, clearly dreading the answer.

Arwen? Oh, Arwen… She never admitted, but at times she was so much like Elrond.

"Your mother loves you, Gilraen. She'll come round with time. It'll take her longer, but she'll come round. Just give her some time" he finally assured Gilraen who relaxed a little and set down to hush her now crying son.

"Shhh, my little baby, little patience. I know you are hungry, I know. Just a tiny little more to wait, baby boy, hush, hush…"

"Oh, pardons, I should be going already. I'm leaving now and you can feed him" Aragorn muttered. Yet another first experience in life; feeling embarrassed for keeping his daughter from breastfeeding his grandson…

"No, I'm not feeding him yet" Gilraen shook her head. "I promised Torundir I'd wait for him to be here, because I sort of banished him from the birth room" Gilraen smiled.

"Yes, but he left, because I asked him" Aragorn stood hastily. "My very best wishes, darling daughter. Good health to you both. If you need anything, if something is amiss, you know where you find us, and don't hesitate a moment to find us then, please." He squeezed Gilraen's hand and headed for the door.

"Thank you Father. For everything" Gilraen smiled after him from her satin bed, holding her infant child. It would take months to get used to the sight, Aragorn was sure.

He descended the stairs and came face to face with Torundir once again.

"Thank you for letting us speak" he nodded to the man. "Gilraen wants to feed the child, she is waiting for you. Congratulations once again, Torundir."

"Thank you, Your Majesty" he inclined his head. "My lord" he called when Aragorn was about to turn for the door. "May I have a word with Your Majesty now, perhaps?"

Aragorn considered him for a moment. Did he want to hear whatever this man had to say to him?

"Yes" he finally said and gestured at Torundir to start.

The man was silent for a moment, struggling to find the words before he eventually looked Aragorn in the eyes.

"Your Majesty must know that I love your daughter. I always will, you have no reason to doubt that, my lord."

That was something Aragorn had been suspecting for a while in spite of all the mistrust he had for Torundir. But it definitely made a difference to hear it from him.

"And Your Majesty must also know that whatever we did, none of it was done out of disrespect or disloyalty or treachery or spite. Wrong, it may have been, but it was all out of love and affection for each other. And that I never meant to rip Your Majesty's family apart" Torundir said never taking his eyes off of him. He spoke with respect and unquestionable honesty while never humiliating himself in front of Aragorn for a single moment. "I also owe to thank Your Majesty for leaving Gilraen to me. Be sure, my lord, that I'll make her happy."

Aragorn sniffed as the man finished. "Thank you for telling this to me. And… There's something I want you to know, too" he spoke. "I never meant for you to die at Nen Falastir, Torundir."

The man inclined his head in acknowledgement and thanks.

"If that was all, I will take my leave" Aragorn nodded and turned for the door. "And Torundir" he veered back around twinkling. "There's a council meeting tomorrow… Usual place, usual time - Officer's Small Hall, 9 o'clock."

"My lord?" the man raised an eyebrow. "I was denied my seat on the Officers' Council and it would not do if Your Majesty gave it back to me on account of my newborn son."

"You were denied your seat on the council because of your relationship with my daughter and its… nature, as we are both aware" Aragorn pressed his lips together. "A ridiculous personal reason having nothing to do with your skills and worth to the council. Thus I don't see anything wrong with giving back what you have earned once on similarly personal grounds. And I'm not opening a debate over the matter. Go so my grandson can eat and don't be late tomorrow" Aragorn inclined his head at his son-in-law and left for the main door.

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Well, what do you people think? Please let me know in a review *.*

And the offer about sending me a PM or writing a review to let me know what scene you'd like to see in a one-shot still stands :)

Thank you so much for reading. Epilogue is coming up during the weekend and if things go well, I might even post the first one-shot (in a separate story of course) during next week. This won't be so quick as updating this story, since I need to write those first, haha.


	39. Epilogue

AN: Hello, everyone!

This is the first fic I publish here, so I would be more than happy to receive your reviews. (Especially on grammar and spelling, because I'm not a native speaker, and even though I sort of did my best, I'm sure it's not perfect at all. Well, trying is the only way you can improve, right?)

As for the story, I don't own anything it's all J.R.R. Tolkien's.

It would be so great if you told me your thoughts on the story and the upcoming characters, because each and every character I'll be presenting was inspired by a very special friend or acquaintance or family member of mine, or a fictional character who also has a special place in my heart. And here I have to mention that whatever tiny fracture that is not Tolkien's in this story is definitely George R.R. Martin's (usually words or objects, it's not a crossover story), because I love ASOIAF and it was a wonderful inspiration.

Thank you for reading in advance, I hope you like it!

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AN:

So we eventually got to the very last chapter of this story, oh it's so bittersweet to know I won't be updating anymore. But finally the story will be completed.

Anyway, I have already mentioned this, but there's going to be another story, a set of extended scenes to this fic (about ten one-shots, I think), so if you liked this story or are interested in more scenes and details, make sure to check that out too, once I get to post it (that won't be tomorrow unfortunately).

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**EPILOGUE**

Here they were again. Among the majestic white walls of living men. Setting foot in the world of the living for the second time was even weirder than for the first time, if possible. Gilraen was sure this would be their last visit back in life; seeing Aragorn and his family was enough to finally rest in peace for the rest of eternity, but they agreed with Gandalf they needed to do this one last thing, they wanted to see Sybille's wedding. The girl was, after all, the first member of their family to meet them a year ago – at least Gandalf said it was a year ago. When one is dead, there's not really something like time.

This time they were no surprise for the royal family though, Aragorn greeted them as relatives from far away, which was, at some point, even correct. She and Arathorn were sent off with servants to prepare for the wedding, that is putting on the clothing Arwen had prepared for them. Apart from their (this time punctual and commonly known) arrival, everything was the same as last year. Even the servants on the corridors were the same, and the guards at the doors. Descending to the great Ceremony Hall on the sixth level to take their seats beside the royal family and wait for the wedding to start, they even passed Lord Beregond, Commander of the Guard of the Citadel in the middle of a light conversation with Lord Barahin and their pirate faced friend – _nothing_ changed at all. Gilraen mused if she would ever forget the Commander and Barahin and all the amusing scenarios she could thank to them.

Arwen and their grandchildren already took their seats; Aryana was measuring the lily-orchid- ribbon decoration of the hall with a look of disgust, Brianneth was shining like a diamond in her silver and pale green dress while Eldarion kept peeking behind his back every second minute, waiting for Sybille to show up. Arwen was as happy and excited as ever, chattering with her brothers, guests of the special occasion as well. At the head of the other column of seats sat the Lord Faramir and his family, while Florian's family was seated right behind the royal family. In the second row, behind the steward and his wife and children Gilraen spotted his son's friends, Legolas and Gimli. Only from the third row started the nobility of Gondor filling the seats to see their High Princess wedded.

"The decoration is so beautiful" Gilraen complemented, she herself sort of liked the twirling flower sets and ribbons Aryana kept grimacing at.

"Why, thank you, Gilraen!" Arwen smiled warmly at her. "I can't wait for the ceremony, are you looking forward too?"

"Absolutely" Arathorn nodded at her. "Aragorn will be walking Sybille up?"

"Naturally" Arwen nodded happily.

"And… where is Gilraen?" Arathorn looked around curiously. Though she never noticed so far, her namesake granddaughter was indeed missing from the royal gathering.

"Somewhere around, I believe" Arwen said pressing her lips together.

"I haven't yet seen her…" Gilraen looked around for the girl. "Won't she sit with us?"

"That she will not…" Brianneth replied shortly, giving an uncertain side-glance at her mother.

"It's a long story, we'll tell you after the wedding" Eldarion murmured to Arathorn.

"I thought it was a rather short and immensely hilarious story" one of Elrond's twin sons put in grinning.

Arwen rolled her eyes: "Elrohir please, my daughter is getting married, could you please, please spare me your jokes this one day in life?"

"He's not joking baby sister" Elladan went on. "It's you who is taking everything too seriously, just listen to Aragorn and get over it."

Arwen made an amused face. "And I thought I missed you" she chuckled shaking her head at her brothers. "Now really, Sybille can be here any moment!"

And so it was, in a few minutes time the buzzing of the crowd dissolved around them and music started filling up the sudden silence in the ceremony hall. Joyful, yet solemn cheers sounded up from outside as the royal princess approached. Everybody turned back around to get a better view, while in the front the holy man, who would unite the bride and groom in marriage, and Florian himself just arrived.

Finally they saw her. Sybille was more beautiful than a goddess, brighter than the sun, shining with happiness, radiating a golden glow in her silver-golden and white wedding dress beside Aragorn, whose blue eyes were fogged with unshed tears of joy. They walked up to the front, Aragorn nodding to guests, Sybille giving her radiant smile to Florian who just stood and watched his future wife mesmerized. Gilraen had never seen anything more touching, moving or beautiful than her son giving Sybille's hand to Florian. Beside her Arwen was fighting her tears, Eldarion smiling like a proud big brother, Brianneth overrun with emotion, Aryana wearing an amused half smile. Arathorn looked touched beyond words too, while the elven twins smiled solemnly at their little niece being wedded. Aragorn finally took his seat beside Arwen and the ceremony started.

In less than an hour, Sybille and Florian were standing – now man and wife – in the midst of hundreds of guests giving their blessings and best wishes for their marriage. After Aragorn and Arwen and Florian's parents finished congratulating the bride and groom among tears and hugs, Gilraen and Arathorn followed their son and his family into the Great Hall where the wedding feast would soon begin. They took their seats on the rather large dais providing seats for the King and Queen, Prince and Princesses, Bride and Groom, Florian's parents on this special day, and Gilraen and Arathorn as well. At the tables of honor on each sides sat the Elven twins, King Thranduil's son and his dwarf lord friend, Gimli, Gandalf, Lord Faramir's family, Prince Imrahil and his son and wife along with the rest of Florian's family, including the memorable Lord Barahin. Guests who already gave their congratulations started filling the hall and soon there was such a thick crowd Gilraen had never seen in her life or death before. Longtables filled up with the nobility of Gondor, visitors from outside of the borders, tutors of the Academy, officers and some lesser, but lucky guests who could sneak in and celebrate with the royal family.

Sybille and Florian eventually arrived and the crowd cheered them once again as they took their seats on the dais. Aragorn stood and held up his hand to silence the guests.

"I thank all of you for celebrating my daughter with us on this special day. May her marriage be blessed and happy!" the crowd applauded. "Enjoy the feast with us for the health and happiness of Princess Sybille and Lord Florian!" The hall erupted in cheers again and as Aragorn sat back, grooms and servants appeared with enormous trays covered with all kinds of food one could imagine.

"This was the most beautiful wedding in the world!" Brianneth chirped at Sybille as a servant put some hot soup in front of them.

"It was, wasn't it? I am so happy!" Sybille shrilled and couldn't stop smiling.

"And you have every reason to be" Arathorn smiled at the girl. "So your sister won't sit with us now, either?" he added casually. Even though he would never admit it, his favorite granddaughter was the one named after his wife, Gilraen was sure.

"I haven't even seen her anywhere. Did she even come?" Arwen looked up from her plate with a hurt expression.

"Of course she did!" Sybille laughed. "She was so sweet she came to see me before the ceremony, I was soooo nervous it was so good to talk to her!"

"And she congratulated us too" Florian added with a smile. "They were sitting quite in the back, that's why Your Majesty didn't see her, I think."

Arwen gave a fond smile to Florian, she clearly liked the youth.

"Eldarion" Aragorn spoke up after finishing his soup in utter silence.

"Yes, Father?"

"You thought about what I said the other day?"

"I did." Eldarion nodded.

"And what do you think?" Aragorn asked cutting himself from a deer leg.

"The same I thought yesterday and the day before and the other day when you first brought it up" the prince gave a small smile and Aragorn rolled his eyes at his son.

"In that case, you should think about it for three more days, so that you'll come round and change your mind" Arwen put in.

"Why would I change my mind? I think it is a good idea."

"Don't be ridiculous, Eldarion. You are the heir of Gondor, why, for Valar's sake must you risk being deprived of that?" Arwen raised an eyebrow at her son. Gilraen looked at her husband, but he too seemed to have no idea of what they were talking about.

"Deprived of it? By what? Wooden toyknights?" Eldarion chuckled.

"Arwen, you are the one being ridiculous, meleth nin" Aragorn spoke up.

Arwen took a deep breath to calm herself and turned to Gilraen. "How do you find the food, dearest Lady Gilraen?"

"Very delicious. My favorite is the pheasant so far" Gilraen smiled at her daughter-in-law sensing how badly Arwen wanted to change topic and make Aragorn and Eldarion forget about their idea she so much disliked. To Gilraen's – and Arwen's – dismay, the plan didn't seem to work out, only Aryana reacted stating that her favorite is the roast lamb.

"I think I should do this. But I'll only do it with your full consent and agreement" Aragorn told Eldarion. Gilraen was touched. This was not a father to son conversation, it was much more a man to man. She remembered Aragorn as a child and now, even his son was a grown man…

"Thank you, Father" Eldarion nodded and an understanding passed between the two. "As I said before, you have my full agreement and consent. I think you should do this."

"Aragorn…" Arwen gave a last, feeble attempt.

"You will agree with me with time" Aragorn said to her and waved at a guard behind them. "Fetch me Torundir. I'll see him in the backroom in 5 minutes."

Gilraen had no idea who that Torundir was, so she decided she would not start racing her mind on what Aragorn was up to, instead she turned her attention back to Sybille, as her son left the table. Her granddaughter was whispering something to her new found husband who smiled and kissed her cheek. Gilraen exchanged a knowing smile with Arwen, who, too, sought joy and solace in the sight of her daughter's happiness.

"There you are, at last!" Aryana's happy exclamation broke their moment of mute conversation. Gilraen looked up to see a slender figure approaching the dais with a happy smile. Sybille's golden hair, sapphire eyes, porcelain skin and a richly embroidered emerald dress; little Gilraen finally joined them too.

"Gilraen!" Sybille waved at her happily.

"Well, congratulations again, Your Highness!" her sister laughed joyfully with a theatrical curtsey as she stopped in front of the dais.

"Well, thank you, again, my lady!" Sybille tweeted with a giggle as she stood and copied her sister.

"Gilraen, dearest, we haven't seen you all day!" Gilraen smiled at her namesake who gave her and Arathorn a warm look.

"I have not seen you either, I'm so glad to meet you again, my lord, my lady. Or I'm still not really clear with the proper form of address."

"I believe we agreed on grandfather and grandmother?" Arathorn offered with a grin.

"How did you like the ceremony? I thought it was so amazing" young Gilraen asked.

"We just loved it" Arathorn replied.

"Enjoying the feast?" Florian asked Gilraen then.

"Very much. Everything is perfect. And you two look so happy together."

"And you look soo much smaller than last time I saw you" Lord Faramir's son arrived with a grin and young Gilraen burst out laughing.

"It would be a shame, if I didn't" she shook her head.

"And how are you?" Arwen spoke up out of nowhere, drawing all attention to herself.

Gilraen saw surprise spread over her granddaughter's face at Arwen's question.

"I am… fine, thank you. I get little sleep, but I'm fine…" she replied uncertainly.

"Well don't you have a maid?" her mother went on. "You should just let her help. And refuse any duties you may be required to attend instead of sleeping after a tiring day" she finished with a dark look, her eyes getting lost in the crowd for a moment.

Another sentence Gilraen did not seem to understand fully, seeing the reactions of the rest of the company. Florian shifted in his seat, Sybille looked at Arwen wide eyed, while Eldarion and Elboron looked like they couldn't decide whether Arwen said something very funny or something very rude. Young Gilraen's face turned scarlet as rage and hurt flashed in her sapphire blue eyes.

"I'll keep that in mind" she said in a low voice.

Brianneth made an attempt to make up for the comment.

"I love your dress, Gilraen. It's really pretty!"

"Brings out, how large your breasts are…" Eldarion added pressing his lips together to keep himself from grinning and her sister broke into a smile again as she shook her head. Elboron shook with laughter beside Gilraen.

"You pigs" Sybille retorted.

"Where are you sitting?" Arathorn asked their granddaughter to roll the conversation on.

"Oh, on the right side with Lord Beregond and his wife."

"With the Lord Beregond, Commander of the Guard of the Citadel?" Gilraen asked with a small chuckle and her granddaughter nodded with a grin.

"Yes, with him. I've heard of your adventure with him, it must have been very amusing" she chuckled and Sybille giggled too.

"I'm so glad you came up to talk! I scarcely saw you in the past month, I was so messed up in preparations…" Sybille pouted. "Oh, and how is Turgalon?"

"Oh, he is very well, thank you" her sister nodded.

"Is he your betrothed?" Gilraen asked her namesake with smile, whose jaw dropped in surprise. Sybille erupted in those typical giggles of high born girls that could embarrass the living soul out of anybody. Good thing she didn't have a living soul for decades. Eldarion raised his eyebrows in amusement, while Aryana could scarcely hold back a snort and Brianneth giggled too. Gilraen felt oddly uncomfortable and looked around hoping to understand what was so silly about her question to laugh at. Florian recovered first to answer her.

"He is her son."

Now it was Gilraen's turn to drop her jaw to the ground as she stared at her granddaughter, who only gave a small smile in response, at Sybille and Florian, at Arwen, at her perplexed husband.

"Her… What?" Arathorn asked in awe.

"Turgalon is her baby's name!" Aryana snapped impatiently. "Can I go and see him next week? He must have grown so much…"

"Whenever you would like to" young Gilraen nodded warmly.

"Is he big now? Can he do anything?" Brianneth asked.

"Do… like what?" her sister raised an amused eyebrow.

"I don't know… anything interesting."

"He is a baby, you idiot, he sleeps and eats and cries, that's what babies do" Aryana glared at Brianneth with a pitiful look.

"Well… he can laugh and giggle." Young Gilraen replied.

"Like… if I tell him a joke?" Brianneth blinked and Eldarion and Elboron guffawed up from their conversation from the other side of the table and even Arwen failed to not smile.

"He will not understand if you tell him a joke yet. But he giggles if you tickle his tiny soles and he always laughes when his father holds him."

So there was a father too… well of course there was, just… Gilraen had difficulties comprehending that her granddaughter who was being harassed for not accepting any suitor by her whole family just a year ago was now a mother of a baby boy at eighteen.

"I wanna go and have a look at the little one too, if I may. I'll go with Aryana" Elboron grinned at Gilraen who nodded and turned to Sybille.

"So enjoy your feast, my dear freshly married little sister, we'll talk later!"

"Little sister? Please, little by what? Three hours?" Sybille rolled her eyes in amusement and waved bye to Gilraen who gave a small curtsy and disappeared in the crowd.

"I can't believe she has a child….!" Gilraen muttered dumbstruck.

"And you haven't yet seen that husband of hers…" Arwen added with a dark look.

"She is married?" Arathorn looked up.

"Of course she is! How else would she have a baby?" Aryana glared at him.

"Darling little sister, may I enlighten you that getting married is not the number one essential you have to do in order to have a baby" Eldarion grinned at Aryana, who shot out her tongue at him.

"We were never here for _her_ wedding…" Arathorn mused.

"I assure you, my lord, it was nothing to celebrate" Arwen said moodily.

Aragorn returned from the backroom.

"So?" Eldarion looked up at him.

"He really didn't want to accept my offer. Did everything to find an excuse to refuse it, but I won, the advantage of being a king…"

"Not like you ever had a hard time making people do what you want, Father, or so I hear from Gandalf's stories" Eldarion laughed.

"You better be careful what you believe from Gandalf's stories" Aragorn chuckled.

The feast went on eventlessly. Sybille and Florian opened dancing, but soon sat back to their table and talked with Lord Barahin and his wife for a while. Some guests walked up to gave their best wishes to Sybille, who was blazing in the center of attention, as always. An elderly lord arrived at the dais and bowed in front of the royal family. He wore a black velvet attire and short trimmed grey mustache to match his short trimmed grey hair, half bolding already. Gilraen estimated him to be in his late fifties, though the nobelty and pride radiating from his every move made him look at least half a decade younger.

"Your Highness, may I give you my warmest congratulations and very best wishes to you and you husband. I wish you the happiest, most blessed life together!" he told Sybille.

"Why, thank you, my lord, it is most kind of you. Forgive me the question, have we met before though?" Sybille gave the man a radiant smile and waited for the answer curiously. She was nice, she always asked who somebody was if she didn't remember, not just tried to get rid of guests without knowing who gave her congratulations. Gilraen thought that was a very regal and very noble thing of her.

"I don't believe I had the honor to meet Your Highness in person yet, I have left Minas Tirith just one year after Your Highness was born. I am Turgon, son of Toraug from Maeregard" he replied.

"I'm glad that you honored us with your kind words and presence even though you do not live in the city" Sybille smiled.

"The honor is mine to be present at Your Hihgness's wedding. Thanks to His Majesty's most gracious offer to invite me when we met previously in the week after I arrived to the city to see my grandson" the man named Turgon bowed his head at Aragorn who gave him his kingly _You are most welcome_ nod in return, then he turned back to Sybille. "It was my son who married Your Highness's gracious sister." He added as explanation.

Sybille's mouth formed a perfect O while Gilraen shifted on her seat interestedly. Her namesake's father-in-law was standing in front of them.

"I am honored to meet you, my lord. And thank you for your nice words" Sybille nodded smiling and with a bow, Turgon left.

Gilraen was about to ask Sybille who was the man's son, when her granddaughter decided to go for a dance with Eldarion. Some southern quartet sounded up from the musicians' podium and groups of four rose from their tables to join the bride and the prince followed by the groom and Princess Brianneth. Prince Imrahil's daughter and a red haired young lord grouped up with another couple approaching and the dance room started to fill up. Lastly, presumably obeying Sybille and Florian's giddy waving and laughing, the Lord Barahin arrived with his pregnant wife followed by his pirate faced friend with young Gilraen on his arm.

Gilraen thought she was going to faint from her seat.

"THAT man is Gilraen's husband?!" she turned to Aragorn and Arwen horrified.

"It is horrible, isn't it?" Arwen sighed passionately.

"I don't say he's the dream son-in-law we could only wish for, but that is a serious over-exaggeration" Aragorn glared at Arwen and Gilraen.

"I think they look happy…" Arathorn shrugged, but he too, failed to mask his surprise.

By the time the quartet finished and dancers returned to their tables, Gilraen started getting accustomed to the thought of her granddaughter having married the Lord Beregond, Commander of the Guard of the Citadel's pirate friend.

After more wine and desserts the dancing resumed with the traditional wedding dances; bride and groom, bride and father, groom and mother, groom and mother-in-law (Florian and Arwen were simply adorable), groom and sister-in-law (featuring Florian and Brianneth and Florian and Aryana), followed by bride and brother-in-law (with Sybille and Barahin and Sybille and Florian's younger brother) and finally the bride and father-in-law dance with Sybille and Lord Malberen in the center, while other wives and father-in-laws joined.

"Haha, look, there's Gilraen with Turgon" Eldarion called at his father.

Aragorn chuckled. "They look nice…"

"They are so funny…" Eldarion shook his head laughing. "I like Turgon."

"You do?" Aragorn looked interested.

"I was about ten when I visited Maeregard with you? He looked like a jolly man."

"A jolly man" Aragorn hummed. "He is good company at the table, indeed - he likes a good joke, a good wine, a good laugh and a nice girl... But Turgon is a dangerous man, Eldarion, so is his son. You should be careful with every man who shows himself less clever than he actually is. They are the ones who might surprise you the most, and not pleasantly, the Haradrim garrison of Nen Falastir could tell you about that. Only the Valar know what Turgon is up to down at Maeregard when he is not commanding shipwrighting."

"And yet you are including his grandson in your act of succession to threaten your own son's claim to the throne" Arwen noted silently.

"No, Arwen. I am including _my_ grandson in the act of succession, to _ensure_ my bloodline's claim to the throne. In case you haven't noticed, right now Gilraen's son is the second in line, after Eldarion." Aragorn sighed with a smile at his wife.

Eldarion completely ignored his mother's words though. "You have heard rumors?"

"I hear thousands of rumors every day. How do you decide which to believe, which to examine…? Some say Turgon lost most of his senses after his wife's death and madness is the only threat he carries. Now _that_ is the rumor you have to be sure _not_ to give any account to. Most say he is mining gold and withholding it from the royal treasury. None would dare say that to his face though. They are a minor family, but somehow Turgon, and Torundir too, have immense authority among other officers. Maybe it is only due to their charismatic personality, or some long lost knowledge everybody feels, but doesn't remember…" Aragorn mused.

"But that doesn't mean they are a threat" Eldarion hummed.

"They are loyal to the crown. They have always been. Turgon was among the first to pledge me fealty after the battle of Pelennor, and after the Black Gate too." Aragorn replied. "You have no reason to worry about this, or push away Turgon on account of what I said now, or worse, make an enemy of him – that would be a grave mistake. Just keep your eyes opened, for you can be sure, that even Gilraen knows more of what's down in the depths of Turgon's mines than you and me combined."

"I understand" Eldarion nodded. "But I think I still like him…"

"That is good." Aragorn smiled. "You must never let your instincts be led astray by other people's point of view."

Gilraen couldn't contribute to the conversation. Even Arathorn was just sitting and listening too – not masking for a moment how much he regretted not having the chance to have this sort of bond with Aragorn.

"Sybille" young Gilraen was walking up to the dais after another hour of the wedding reception elapsed with talking, feasting and dancing.

"Yes?" her sister chanted sweetly.

"We would go home, if it's all right. I must feed the baby."

"Oh" Sybille pouted. "I hoped we could talk more."

"You'll have plenty of time to talk my dear" Florian told her. "Thank you for being here Gilraen. Thanks to Torundir too."

"We thank you for inviting us. All the best and the most happy marriage to you two!" Gilraen smiled at him gratefully.

"I hope we'll soon see each other" Sybille told her. "And Gilraen… thanks for… you know… before the ceremony... What we talked about… thanks for that, very much." She finished reddening.

"You are welcome." Gilraen nodded at her with a small smile.

"And place a goodnight kiss onto Turgalon's cute little brow for me!" Sybille giggled.

"I will" Gilraen laughed. "And you have a wonderful time for the rest of the feast!" she told to basically everybody. Aragorn and Eldarion gave the same regal smile to her as they inclined their heads, Arwen pressed out a smile and their granddaughter finally turned to Arathorn and Gilraen. "I was happy to see you again." She said.

"It was our pleasure" Arathorn nodded.

Her sisters waved goodbye and young Gilraen retreated with a light curtsy.

Gilraen watched with a bittersweet smile as her granddaughter's small figure dissolved into the crowd, green velvet and blond locks rustling behind her...

* * *

THE END. Please let me know what you think in a review. I really hope you liked the story, and sorry for Arwen again, but if every single conflict was resolved we would have had an immensely sugary and over all surreal happy ending, which I wouldn't have liked. But Aragorn promised Gilraen previously that Arwen will come round and Aragorn usually knows what he is talking about, so consider that a fact.

Special thanks to karol89 for commenting on the chapters, her nice reviews were so motivating all along :)

Thank you for reading!


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